From His Excerpts
by Phoenyxx
Summary: Kakashi Hatake and his excerpts of the wizarding world. Hogwarts, ministry politics, Mangekyou Sharingan and...sparking school spirit? "Don't take me as alien! I know your politics." The wizards shared a look. "Alien as foreigner. Here. The-saurus says."
1. 01: All Aboard

**From His Excerpts**

**Status:** Crossover between Naruto (during timeskip) and Harry Potter (Goblet of Fire timeline). Kakashi-centric. A drabble-esque series all linked to two main plots.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto or Harry Potter.

* * *

**Take One: **All Aboard (the Crazy Express)

* * *

The white knight astride the stallion was a beautiful, wooden figurine standing proudly at its square on the board. Made from hardy oak with a fine gossamer coat, delicate carvings detailed the body, giving it a rosy life-like appearance. The hooves on the splendid creature were carefully crafted with silver metal and magnificent ruby gems were inset at the heels. Fine-spun gold swayed gently, tail fanned to catch the dim glow of fading sunset light.

Kakashi Hatake placed a gentle finger on top of this stallion's head, frowning in mock concentration. Moving the white knight against the 'opponent' – himself, naturally – the fierce chess piece smashed through the black rook mercilessly, woodchips flying.

"How interesting…"

The white knight bucked in acknowledgement, glittering hooves kicking air.

"You just destroyed the second black rook…How am I supposed to explain this mess to Professor Dumbledore?"

A demure figure, the ivory queen scoffed, pretty hands placed complacently at the front. Opposite her, the onyx pawn tilted left and right, antsy, seeing that the white knight was now free to attack it. The aforementioned horse pawed the game board, snuffing loudly.

"Hmm…" Absently fiddling with his black-dyed hair, the Hatake pushed the elegant black bishop dressed with flowing robes towards the white pawn. In a heartbeat, the bishop viciously smashed the tiny pawn to pieces and checked the creamy-coloured king. Almost fretful (if he had to label an emotion), the ivory queen glanced over her shoulder to watch her king, a clear scowl etched on the sweet face.

Self-satisfied, he smiled behind the scarf wrapped around his neck and face, "Violent game pieces…What a novelty."

Prodding the white rook nearest the king, he began to contemplate the next steps but a quiet shuffling outside the door broke his concentration. Glancing up discreetly, he saw no one silhouetted in the frosted window.

Instead, a gentle knock reverberated through the room and a voice hailed outside, "Oh? I hope I'm not interrupting Mr. Hatake."

"No. Not at all." Ah. The tiny Professor. That explained things.

The door to the train compartment inched open and Professor Flitwick smiled from the entrance, appraising, "The others were wondering where you went…hrm…" There was an awkward pause when Kakashi didn't answer. "Well, playing wizard's chess, are you?"

Careful to hide his ire, Kakashi nodded, staring as the diminutive professor sat opposite him in the train compartment. He started, trying to be polite, "It _is_ rather fascinating but I'm afraid some of the pieces…" Slouched in his seat, he waved at what was left of the figurines – fragments, really – and continued, "Unless there is a magic spell to fix them…?"

Eager eyes gleamed. "Oh yes! Once the game concludes, the pieces will regenerate to their original forms. It's a rather interesting type of charms work that is still under theoretical study…"

And so Kakashi diligently listened to Flitwick go off tangent and ramble about the theory of 'Inanimate Regeneration'. Glancing as the scenery outside blurred in relative motion, he wondered if the information will help with the research he was conducting…

…After all, he had a Mangekyou Sharingan to activate.

* * *

_(__Three weeks prior…)_

"Only fifteen minutes late, Kakashi?" The steel-edged voice mocked him. "I'm honoured."

"Of course, Hokage-sama," agreed the scuffled Copy ninja complacently when he entered the office. "I hear you have another mission for me."

Tsunade seemed to brighten. Kakashi did not like the omen.

"Oh I do," started the Slug Princess as she tossed him a _very_ thick scroll. "The client requested your participation for this solo mission. A-ranked at most."

"Really," was all he could offer as he hefted the scroll (the size of his head!) under his arm. "And what kind of mission is this?"

"Hm. Apparently, the client wishes for your expertise in your renowned team work."

"I didn't know I was _renowned_ for team work…" muttered the shinobi absently with an undertone of doubt.

"And he's offering a rather large payment for your services."

Kakashi narrowed his eyes when Tsunade's grin widened; she was clearly enjoying his growing unease.

"And what would my 'team work' be needed for."

The Hokage simpered. "Oh…He mentioned that you'll be there to help keep a few hundred students in line."

At that very instant, he was glad for the mask hiding his growing horror. "A few…hundred…_students_?"

"Yes. Students." She clarified further, "Students that perform _magic_ in a _wizardry school_."

"But Tsunade-sama. Magic and ninja do not mix-!"

"Don't give me that bull, Kakashi. Konoha needs the money," she cut in before he could further rebuke. "Besides, I know you've been messing around with the Sharingan." With a medic's precision, she analyzed her fatigued soldier. "Don't tell me that you aren't exhausted trying to figure out a way to reach the next level."

Sharingan Kakashi crossed his arms rather defiantly (and childishly) but didn't respond against the accusation.

"I am hoping access to new possibilities and information will help your goal. Perhaps you'll exercise more innovation without shinobi tradition and theory binding you down." Tsunade leaned back against her chair. "And before you ask, yes, the client knows that you'll be doing research so this is, indirectly, arranged for _your_ benefit."

Rather than feeling thankful, Kakashi scoffed lightly, lone grey eye boring down his Hokage. He would much rather do this without intervention and it seemed Tsunade, perceptive, picked up on his sentiments.

But she did not pursue the matter as she changed subjects. "The scroll you now carry contains a very detailed account of your mission parameters. It will also give you an in-depth look into the culture and magic situated in the outer continents. Learn it. Memorize it. You will be leaving at the scheduled time three nights from now and I expect you to know the material then." Her eyes glowed furiously. "_And. Don't. Be. Late._"

"Yes, Hokage-sama." Kakashi raised a careful eyebrow heavenwards. Since when has he been purposefully late for a crucial mission?

"I expect weekly updates, Kakashi, so don't think it will be an easy eleven months-" She skilfully ignored the sigh. "-because I will also be sending you side missions to accomplish during your stay at the wizardry institute."

"Of course, Hokage-sama."

"And here." Tsunade threw another object at him and he caught the thick book with little difficulty. "It is a gift from the client. He says this book will help you learn the necessary language so that you can interact with the natives."

Before the Copy ninja could bat another eyelash (or protest), the Hokage of Konoha waved her hand glibly.

"Dismissed."

* * *

And that was three weeks ago.

Shortly after his arrival, he learned the language and theory of magic fervently. He even allowed himself to be assimilated into the strange culture, garbing in the cumbersome robes and eating the peculiar hearty food. Apparently, the other wizards – his 'colleagues' – mentioned he was now equivalent to a slightly knowledgeable squib – with an accent.

How heartening.

* * *

_(__The anticipation. The arrival. The joy when he found out that the students were still on vacation…)_

Touching the dirty shoe – no, _portkey_ that could supposedly transport him from one hidden continent to another – had landed him in a giant lake.

"_Great…"_

And so, floundering in the water with his baggage like a waterlogged puppy, he was about to call up his chakra when a slimy, thick _something_ enclosed around his middle and tossed him out of the water and into air.

A quick glance downwards and his visible eye widened. A giant squid.

A giant squid had just thrown him like a ragdoll.

_A giant squid_.

"_Definitely not in Fire Country anymore…"_

He twisted in midair, catching sight of the dense tree lines and a magnificent castle, before ninja grace returned and he landed smartly on his feet. Unfortunately for him, the soft springy ground offered no resistance and he easily sunk into mud.

Resigned, Kakashi ran a hand through wet hair and extricated himself from the dirt trap._ "Great. Great…Really great start."_

…

And then he got lost. (Hogwarts school grounds and the accompanying forest were rather impressive though.)

…

It was dusk when he arrived at the edge of the castle. He then took time to stare at a fascinating, knobby tree before the branches began to_ move_ and attempted to decapitate his head.

…

And after a few circles along the perimeter, he got tagged by a giant overtly-friendly, yet still wary, dog, tongue lolling and jaws snapping warningly.

He eyed the man accompanying said interesting, schizophrenic hound and came to one swift conclusion.

"_The owner of the dog is _huge_." _And he was. If Kakashi had to estimate, the man was perhaps two normal heads taller than him. Curiously, he also smelled a bit drunk.

But regardless, he forged on, fumbling through the foreign language spectacularly. "Ah…Esthcuse me?"

There was a small shocked pause. The Groundskeeper of Hogwarts towered over the silver-haired shinobi, eyeing the slighter man, before he rumbled uncertainly, "…Uh…Yea?"

(Afterwards, Rubeus Hagrid would reflect back and ponder how the lisp could sound that endearing from a – in his point of view – frightened, soaked foreigner.

…He later concluded that it was probably the fire whiskey he drank earlier that same day.)

…

"Ah, you must be Mr. Hatake." The elderly man standing behind the portly desk held quite an apologetic air. "I am terribly sorry. There must have been a mistake with the portkey. Rather, it was supposed to send you directly to this office…"

"No harm done." Good. Someone that spoke his language. Kakashi slipped cold fingers into his pockets before commenting candidly, "It only dumped me into a lake."

A few of the portraits lined behind the aged wizard snickered-coughed into closed fists.

"Believe me, that was most unintentional," smiled the man sincerely. His client – he must be his client – introduced himself, "And where are my manners? My name is Professor Albus Percival Wulric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Glancing at the wizened face and then the offered hand, Kakashi, instead, opted to bow curtly. "Kakashi Hatake."

"Please, take a seat." To Kakashi's fascination, the wizard used magic to conjure him a rather comfy looking chair. As they both took their seats, Dumbledore started the pleasantries, "I am quite delighted that you agreed to the terms of this mission, Mr. Hatake."

He returned the greetings with equal diplomacy. "It was an interesting offer that Konoha couldn't refuse."

"Good. Good. As I am sure you have it gleaned from what little information I left in the scroll for you-"

"…_You left quite a bit to digest, actually…"_

"-tensions are rather high within our community. With the attempted rising of Voldemort-"

Here, the shinobi nodded, having read the details of the evil overlord. Frankly, he was rather interested on the uncanny parallels one could draw between this Voldemort character and Orochimaru.

"-I believe it is imperative that the wizarding community stand together, united." Dumbledore paused. "And so to strengthen the ties between wizardry factions, Hogwarts is hosting the Triwizard Tournment this year, a prestigious competition that will hopefully bring goodwill to all."

"_Hm. That's what they said about the chuunin exams."_ Kakashi mentally shook his head. _"And we all know how well that turned out."_

"And this is where your team work comes into play. With confidence, I leave you with one role: to spark school spirit and unite the four houses of Hogwarts under one banner."

"…_What?"_ Kakashi's brain briefly halted all higher functions. _"Wait…Now it's called '_sparking school spirit_'?! Is he sure he's got the right man for the job? He should've asked Gai…" _Of course, he didn't directly question his paying client; instead he warned, monotone, "School spirit, professor? I am a rather introverted man."

"Ah, I admire your humbleness but I trust your Hokage greatly. She was quite adamant that you were the best man for the job, Mr. Hatake."

"Thank you for the compliment." Kakashi's hidden left eye twitched. _"Thank you _very_ much, Hokage-sama. So the client was asking for my participation, huh? Hmn…Or did _you _push_ me_ to the job?"_

Dumbledore smiled pleasantly, seemingly oblivious to the sudden ill will. "I have also been notified of your vested interest in research. During your stay here, you will be allowed access to the books within our school library. All I hope is that you will find what you are looking for."

At the mention of gaining more knowledge, Kakashi reined in his ire. "Your hospitality is greatly appreciated, professor." He then added lightly, "And as for my identity during the stay…"

"Yes, I do agree that you will need an alias or at least a different background. Wizards are still quite hesitant of the people living in the war-torn, hidden nations."

"As to be expected; that can be arranged." Kakashi mournfully looked down at his jounin uniform and mentally prepared his goodbyes to functional clothing. "I can change my appearance to better suit the culture."

"Perfect." The Professor glanced at him from half-moon glasses. "I can only apologize that you're allowed a short month to prepare before the students return…"

"…About that. I will need more time to be proficient with your language."

The wizard seemed genuinely amused "Your Hokage did mention that you were a fast learner. I shouldn't be surprised, should I, that you are worrying about proficiency after three days of exposure to our language?" Dumbledore then asked, a tad eager, "Are you finding the language dictionary I sent you easy to understand?"

"The book is very convenient, professor." Kakashi connected the dots. "I suppose you wrote it?"

"That's correct." Dumbledore hummed pleasantly. "But in any case, Mr. Hatake, you won't have to worry yet. The other professors will help ease you into the role as the Inter-House Relations Deputy."

"_Inter-House __Relations Deputy?"_ Kakashi rolled his eyes. He needed a better title. But first things first…"The other professors will not be notified of my identity."

"Of course. That information is strictly confidential." Dumbledore twinkling eyes met his passively relieved stare. "You will be meeting the staff - well, the ones who returned from their vacations - tomorrow at breakfast. For now, let me show you to your living quarters for the school year…"

…

When he was finally left alone in his new room, he glanced at the mirror and mumbled crossly, "Now to make myself more presentable…"

…

Straightened, short black hair fell softly around his crown, which was a far-cry from his usual style – silver-hair spiked upwards. Adjusting the formal white shirt and respectable black pants, he smoothed down the flowing black cloak provided, fiddling with the silver clasp. His only reassurance was that at least they weren't colourful like Dumbledore's purple and yellow-starred robes.

He pulled the hood over his head. Inspected. Nodded.

He then took off the hood and fixed the red scarf hiding his neck and a good portion of his face. The left eye – closed – was exposed. In his opinion, the scar provided a much more haunting effect.

Fingerless, Konoha standard gloves and thick-soled military boots – clean but heavy – were put on. He'll have to adjust the footgear later.

But there was still something _off_.

He checked again. All his hidden weapons and scrolls were in place. His Konoha hitae-ate was wrapped around his ANBU tattoo underneath all the clothes.

Then what was _wrong_?

At that point, his nose was so close to the mirror that the mirror herself had to respond. "You look perfectly fine, dearie."

Kakashi jumped, and pulled a punch._ Spon__taneously talking mirror_.

The mirror shrieked and was shattered to pieces. The portrait of a little man hung across the room made a scandalized noise.

He stared at bruised, bloodied knuckles and sighed. With practiced ease, he went to the attached bathroom and cleaned the wound. He then took out a roll of bandages and wrapped his injured right hand. Flexing the appendage experimentally, he caught his reflection on the bathroom mirror and it suddenly came to him.

He looked like an absolute dork dressed as a wizard.

* * *

**TBC**

**A/N: **Say hello to my side-project. Side-project, say hello to the readers.

Phoenyxx


	2. 02: First Impressions

**Take Two:** First Impressions (Showtime)

* * *

"Hum-Ah-Here is Mr. Hatake now."

Striding almost purposefully towards the upraised table at the front of the hall, Kakashi halted when he neared, facing Dumbledore and his motley staff. Loosely held in one hand,_ Icha Icha Paradise_ was opened to a nondescript page, the obscenely orange cover catching almost equal attention. The disguised shinobi nodded at Dumbledore, ignoring the inquisitive stares, and murmured in his native language, "Sorry. You see, I was politely listening to a painting describe the drabness of tartan curtains and how pink couches can match quite well with red doilies when I realized I was late for breakfast. So I asked for directions and the little man with the purple pinstripe bowler hat led me through an interesting adventure where we entered a trap door of sorts and solved difficult obstacles - battling against flying keys and such - and when we reached the final level he realized that we went in the wrong direction so we had to backtrack through fire and-"

"That's quite alright, Mr. Hatake." More amused than cross (because he was previously warned by the reverent Hokage about the peculiar habits of this shinobi), Dumbledore peered down at him from half-moon glasses. "Rest assured; although you are two hours late we have not started breakfast without you. Though, I must ask kindly that you try to be more punctual tomorrow."

"Hmm. I extend my apologies again, Professor." Kakashi tugged at his red scarf, eyes curving impishly. "But I must defend myself and place the blame on the rather charming painting."

The Headmaster nodded agreeably and addressed the other hungry professors who were fidgeting in their seats, incapable of understanding the previous exchange (linguistic barriers and all that). "Ah-yes! My good ladies and gentlemen please once again excuse my manners. May I introduce to you our newest addition to the staff, Kakashi Hatake."

The professors gathered at the Great Hall clapped politely with several murmured 'welcome's and 'great to have you on board's tossed in.

Kakashi returned the reactions with a jaunty wave and replied with accented English, "Thank you. Pleased to meet you all. May we become great _acquiescenses_."

Upon that word, there was a low hum that fell like a blanket around the professors, and Kakashi could almost see their minds turning and connecting the various dots. _Appearance. Language. Foreigner._ The woman to the far right end of the table clucked loudly, as if offended by his butchering of the English language; she also eyed his open book with curiosity as there were no such colourful tomes in _her _library.

Dumbledore glanced at Kakashi, knowing for a fact that his English was not as bad as he played them to be.

However before he could cry foul, it was a female professor situated to the immediate left of Dumbledore who corrected him sharply, but not unkindly, "You mean acquaintances."

"It is what I say?" He purposefully responded in a puzzled tone and the witch's lips pressed together into a thin line. Eyeing the woman, he immediately tacked on the traits of 'quick to point out mistakes' and 'believes she is always correct so does not take it when students correct her knowledge' to her character. He repeated slowly, much to her exasperation, "Ack-_quees_-sence-ses."

Grinning, he watched her eyebrows twitch downwards. The Headmaster, witnessing the exchange, acquired a knowing look.

A tiny man, with snow-white hair that rivalled Dumbledore's, spoke up rather thoughtfully, "Unfortunately, Mr. Hatake, you are making a mistake in your pronunciation. Try a-_kwain_-ten-ses."

Ah. Quite obviously a patient nurturer or maybe a soft-spoken, sensitive-in-nature teacher that students could walk all over.

Kakashi appeared to think over the tiny professor's words before announcing, "Hum…I check." He slipped _Icha Icha Paradise_ into a hidden pocket of his cloak and pulled out a new book – the language translation dictionary that Dumbledore had previously gifted him. He exaggeratedly flipped through the bound pages, acutely aware that they were staring and mumbling once more.

A greasy-haired man snorted over the din, "An outsider unfamiliar with English?"

Kakashi peered above the pages quickly, lone grey eye darting too rapidly for the wizards to perceive. The man with the sour-lemon expression seemed quite impatient and had a haughty aura. With deliberate volume, the shinobi in disguise answered cheerfully, "Yes. Yes. I learn English. Three…wee-eeks? No…Days…Three days ago."

The sour-lemon expression switched from uncertainty before settling to a neutral glower.

Dumbledore's smile seemed to broaden. "Mr. Hatake has been most studious indeed."

Kakashi flapped his hand absently, as if dismissing the compliment. His eye was still focused on the open page. "Mmn…Eng-lish is inneresting. Easy."

The neutral glower reverted back to the sour-lemon expression almost instantly.

The Headmaster coughed lightly, changing the subject. "Ah, our new educator is actually a special guest of Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic. He hails from the Great East so I trust you, professors, to guide Mr. Hatake in his role and help him adapt to our culture."

This time, a plump woman with frizzy grey hair nodded agreeably, answering Dumbledore's call. "Oh of course I would be happy to help a fellow instructor! We can probably learn a lot from each other."

Peacemaker. Friendship builder. Kakashi decided she may become an interesting asset for this mission of his.

"Though Headmaster, I was wondering what subject he is teaching here?" Clicking her tongue loudly, the skinny witch with the vulture stare – in fact, she was the one who previously eyed his _Icha Icha Paradise_ book with interest – snappishly voiced the question the other professors were thinking of.

"It is with misfortune that I tell you now he is not here to take up the vacant Defence Against the Dark Arts seat."

Kakashi noted with curiosity that the greasy-haired professor's glare smothered itself over when he heard the Headmaster's words.

Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling, "However, I am most pleased to announce that he shall, instead, be given the important role of sparking school spirit for the Triwizard Tournament. Our very own Inter-House Relations Deputy!"

Mentally, he cringed at the title; outwardly, he was still shuffling through the book, oblivious. The professors, having no such emotional inhibitions, discreetly exchanged smirks.

Faintly, a woman, who had been silent up until Dumbledore's grandeur statement, asked uncertainly through a sceptical smile, "An Inter-House Relations Deputy you say…?"

The sour-lemon look was exchanged for annoyance as the wizard of said expression remarked, "Is it necessary to have someone _rally_ school spirit?" Clearly, the man refused to say '_sparking_' school spirit.

There was a wildfire of murmurs but Kakashi, with his keen ears, could pick up the most frequently uttered words: '_the Weasley twins can take care of _school spirit_ just fine_'.

So they doubted his expertise…Thereby making his decision much easier.

"AH!" He snapped the book shut rather loudly (a few professors jumped) and exclaimed pleasantly, "You are right, professor, or I say, you are right, ack-_quen_-ten-ss."

"And he is still learning the language." Rather dryly, the witch in the emerald robes – the one who immediately corrected him earlier – stared at Dumbledore almost incredulously, "Surely you must reconsider this appointment."

The diminutive wizard shook his head apologetically. "Unfortunately, I agree with Minerva, Headmaster. Communication is rather crucial if he is to, as Severus called it, 'rally school spirit'."

Dumbledore seemed to discreetly signal Kakashi 'to do something' but the jounin only shrugged, grey eye blinking innocently.

The woman who was awfully quiet during the greetings whispered rather loudly towards the witch with the vulture-stare. "Hrm. Don't you agree, Irma, that he doesn't seem like the school spirit type?"

"No, certainly not, Poppy. And as it is, Hogwarts students are loud and excitable enough. The way I see it, it's superfluous to add fuel to the fire."

Beside them, the greasy-haired professor grunted, silently agreeing.

Contrary to their expressed feelings, the Headmaster ultimately stared at them flatly, taking matters into his own hands. "That's enough. Mr. Hatake will be an excellent mentor so I hope you will _all_ treat him politely and genially." There were brief unconvinced mutters of assent and Dumbledore swept a hand through his beard, speaking to Kakashi amiably, "Please, enjoy your breakfast."

And while the professors finally started their breakfast (no thanks to Kakashi for being late), the shinobi nodded agreeably, taking it as his cue to leave.

…After all, would he really starve himself for two hours when he already discovered the kitchens yesterday night?

* * *

It had been a day since the staff of Hogwarts was introduced to Hatake. If he were to describe the foreigner, he would have signalled him out as an annoying bright eyed and bushy tailed individual with a dash of Hufflepuff cheer. In other aspects, like language barrier and lack of culture, the man was absolutely _insufferable_…

Minding his own business, Snape strode purposefully to his office, black cloak snapping furiously at his heels. But when he was rounding a corner into the dungeons, he was met with the sight of Hatake leaning carelessly against the stone wall, staring blankly at a spot on the ceiling.

Mistrust set in.

As he neared, Snape's frown deepened. Was the man humming a merry tune under his breath?

…Nevermind that the melody was slightly muffled by his mustard-yellow scarf. Snape approached his daydreaming _colleague_ and questioned bluntly, "Why are you lurking in the dungeons?"

Hatake, as if deaf, ignored the fuming professor; he whistled a few notes and began to_ sing _in his native language. It sounded suspiciously like a nursery rhyme if the repetitive notes were anything to go by.

Severus, not wanting to demean himself and follow his line of sight, cleared his throat pointedly. "If you have nothing better to do, Argus and Professor Dumbledore are looking for assistance against a Purtle infestation."

He waited. Hatake was oblivious. Apparently being civilized wasn't going to cut it.

He gnashed his teeth together. "Are you even listening?"

Hatake tilted his head further, eye still trained on the rafters.

"Irritating…Deaf..." Murmuring darkly, Snape refrained from using his wand. "Uncouth."

Silent, the black-haired man tilted his head again, but this time additionally slipping a book out and offhandedly presenting it to Snape.

The Potions professor read the cover and seethed.

'_Lessons in Etiquette_' by Hurbbie Humbletone.

"You-Telling me to read up on my e_tiquette._" Snape's glower intensified. "In our culture, Hatake, hypocrisy is looked down upon."

Hatake lolled his head to the side, focusing on a new spot on the wall behind Snape's head.

The professor bared his teeth and was about to rant at the silent man when the painting attached to the wall opposite to them spoke up.

It drawled out slowly in a croak, "Hello. Quiet down. Shut up. I think he's talking to you, sonny-boy."

That elicited a response. "Hmn?" Hatake's lone grey eye widened comically as if just realizing that Snape was beside him. "Oh, hello. What do-need?"

The wizard took a deep breath in. "Leave my dungeons at once. I do not welcome loiterers."

Hatake stared at him steadily, as if waiting for something.

Snape glared back testily. "Well?"

He sounded the words out slowly, as if speaking to a child. "He-low professor."

"Out!"

Hatake seemed to frown and shake his head. "Hm. Need learn manners." He then pressed the etiquette book into Snape's hands and walked away.

"Manners. I have more manners than you,_ sir_. A penchant in ignoring a person does not equate to manners, Hatake." He eyed the retreating back with distaste.

Hatake, on the other hand, shrugged, "No hello. I no respond."

* * *

_(Two days later…)_

Flitwick's eyes, full of wonderment and surprise, widened. He hailed the figure squatting on the wall. "Mr. Hatake! How are you sitting on the wall like that? What spell are you using?"

"Oh, hello professor…Spell…?" The foreigner seemed to think, tugging at his flat, ebony-shade hair. "Spell? Sorry…I am what you say squid."

"Squid…?" Flitwick watched, fascinated, as Hatake walked calmly up the wall and onto the ceiling.

"Yes!" From his position, the man 'smiled' his customary beam, sky-blue scarf in place even upside-down. "Squid."

A small frown wormed its way to the surface of his expression. "I don't know what you mean by that."

The 'Inter-House Relations Deputy' seemed to fumble through the words. "Squid…Like…No magic."

_Oh._ Professor Flitwick chuckled lightly, "I believe the correct term is squib."

"Yes, squid. It is what I say."

Sighing, he decided it was in vain to correct him. Instead, he questioned, "Then how did you get up there with no magic?"

This, Hatake had an easier time responding. "Mahh, secret." And as if he could detect the disappointment, the man considered again and took out a parchment paper folded in half. He then allowed it to flutter to the ground near Flitwick. "But if you can open secret. Learn less-en."

Flitwick with an expression of pure glee picked up the piece of parchment and nodded excitedly, "I see, I see! Thank you for sharing your knowledge, Mr. Hatake."

Kakashi smiled benignly as he waved him off.

* * *

It had been awhile since the occupants of the staff table united and agreed upon something. As it was, when it came to curious behaviours amongst instructors – well, they had to make an exception.

Minerva McGonagall sighed, finally setting her fork down, and asked enquiringly, "Filius, what are you doing?"

The occupants of the staff table watched as their Charms professor spelled the paper again, muttering crossly, "Why doesn't it work?!"

"Filius!" Poppy called out the wizard sharply.

Flitwick could only distractedly explain. "Ahh you see, Hatake can walk on walls."

Murmurs of interest ebbed into the conversation.

"Walk on walls." Professor Sprout snorted gaily as she prefers to have two feet on solid ground.

Without looking up, the diminutive professor nodded, "Yes…Yes…But curiously he's a squid."

McGonagall exchanged raised eyebrows with Madam Pomfrey. "Squid?"

But Flitwick seemed oblivious once more as he considered and brightened when he thought of another charm to use. He twirled his wand expertly and spelled the parchment but when there were no visible results, he cursed rather fluently, the words echoing within the Great Hall. The acoustics were impeccably superb.

Of course, this raised a few more eyebrows including Septima Vector's who just returned to Hogwarts that day.

The Arithmancy professor questioned meticulously, "You say cephalopodan, Filius?

"Hmm?" Looking decidedly harried, Filius scratched his head distractedly. "Sorry, my mistake; I meant squib. Mr. Hatake was the one who kept insisting squid."

They watched as he casted magic on the paper again.

"Why then, Filius, did the piece of paper offend you? What does it have to do with Hatake and walking on walls?" sighed Vector as she speared a potato on her plate with a spoon.

Almost snappish, Filius tugged at his white hair. "Hatake explained that if I could open this parchment paper then I may learn how he did it."

"Infuriating man…" Snape broke his silence, exhaled and muttered pointedly, "The parchment paper was never sealed, professor."

At mid-cast, the Charms master swirled in his seat and asked, shocked, "What?"

"It's true." McGonagall observed wryly. "The parchment paper was already open when you entered the Great Hall and every time you casted a spell, the paper would instead change colour."

"But-But-Impossible!" Flitwick poked the piece of paper with the end of his wand. "You are mistaken. It's clearly still sealed!"

"Could Hatake possibly have cheated you?" questioned Sprout.

"Im-Im-Impossible! There is no colour change and it's still closed!" denied the wizard vehemently. "Do not lie to me, good professors."

"We aren't, Filius," reassured Vector complacently.

Sprout added, "And it truly is opened."

"Then read it to me…What does it say?"

Pomfrey held out an empty hand and volunteered readily. "May I?"

Flitwick reluctantly passed the paper over and she inspected the scrawled words – words that Flitwick could not see. She read aloud, "You cannot."

"I cannot what?"

Poppy shrugged helplessly, "That's all it says."

"But-!"

"I'm sorry, Filius."

"Impossible." He snatched the paper from Pomfrey, shaking his head in defiance. They observe, worried, as he scurried away to his office, muttering all awhile.

It would be a two days later before the rest of Hogwarts would see hide or hair of Flitwick and when he did show himself, he was visibly exhausted.

He explained to his concerned peers that the parchment was simply gone – that when he woke up that morning, the bane of his existence disappeared.

(Discreetly from a few floors above the clamouring Great Hall, Kakashi crumpled Flitwick's piece of paper and set it on fire with a well placed _katon_ jutsu, and with it, releasing the elaborate genjutsu.

He smiled.)

* * *

(_Another day passes…_)

Madam Hooch, who recently returned from her relaxing vacation, opened the broom shack eagerly but promptly gaped at the sight. She shrieked, "What…What is the meaning of this?!"

Kakashi waved, rubbing the back of his head nervously, "I learn."

"You-You-!" Her hand was shaking in rage as she pointed towards the dismantled broom, splinters of wood littering the area. "That was school property!"

"Ah-I fix. No worry."

"Fix? FIX?!" Hooch's hawk eyes flashed menacingly. "Knives!_ Knives_! You pared the broom into ribbons!"

"Want to learn." Hatake scrunched his forehead together as he strung the words. "Learn…Magic-kal core."

The flying instructor strode into the closet and was about to lecture the grown man about respecting property when she _saw_.

All the brooms. Broken. Irreparable.

She glanced at the man exuding happiness and felt light-headed, rage boiling over into cold disbelief.

She fainted.

Kakashi lifted the genjutsu and pleasantly strode out of the shack, hands in trouser pockets. Behind him, all the brooms were intact and the witch was still out cold.

* * *

"Catch the book-"

"Ah-Sorry."

"Hatake – that was my best quill!"

* * *

"Don't go so close-No!"

A loud crash that sounded like pottery smashed against the ground.

"That was my award-winning flutterby bush!"

* * *

"Out! Out of my dungeons _now_!"

* * *

"Woman with-" His hands circled his eyes, mimicking eyeglasses. "-And smell…funny. Fruit. Flower."

"You mean Trelawney."

"Ah. She say…Trans…Trans-fig-gu-a-ton-"

A sigh. "Transfiguration, Hatake."

"Ah. Yes! Say it use-less."

"Did she now?"

"Ah. See-ing better."

"…Hrn."

"Says hag."

* * *

"Minerva! Unhand me this instant!"

"Useless? Transfiguration is a basis of magical theory, four-eyed unseeing _hag_!"

"You-!"

"Now ladies-!" Flitwick flittered from one witch to the other imploringly. "Let's not be too hasty here."

Two piercing voices yelled, "Quiet Filius!"

* * *

Bursting into the Headmaster's office, a stream of wizards and witches – all a part of the prestigious Hogwarts staff – glowered at the pair situated in the room. Their representative, a red-faced Professor Trelawney, scowled at Kakashi before demanding, "I've had enough, Professor Dumbledore. On behalf of the _saner_ part of your staff, I urge you to remove that infuriating man from Hogwarts at once!"

(Trelawny on the saner part of the staff. Oh how the world was turning upon its head.)

Dumbledore, wizened and cheerful to a fault, glanced at his hired shinobi with ill-hidden amusement. "What did you do, Mr. Hatake?"

Kakashi eye-smiled, silently saying everything and nothing at once.

McGonagall stepped forward to stand beside Trelawney and nodded stiffly, "Albus, this has gone on long enough. He has been unconditionally antagonizing the staff members. This is an outrage. How do we expect him to teach notions of 'teamwork' and 'school spirit' if he can't even work well with his colleagues?"

"Indeed. He is quite petty," growled the usually good-natured Flitwick.

"Spreading fibs about certain staff members," added Trelawney.

"Damaging school property." Even as the Astronomy professor spoke those words, she moaned despairingly, "He readjusted the moon scales to follow the sun. The ancient moon scales, Albus! That is absolutely unheard of."

"What about Mrs. Norris?!" seethed Filch as he pointed an accusing finger at the masked man. "She's still missing! _It must have been him_."

(Kakashi may or may not have had a hand in that…He'll have to ask his giant bulldog summon later.)

"And let's not forget snide." Madam Hooch glared at Hatake as he read his orange book, recalling how he tricked her into believing that all of Hogwarts' brooms were destroyed.

Pince sniffed, still heartbroken over her destroyed quill. She added salt to the wound, pointing at his little book with the picture of the man chasing a woman. "For all we know he could be reading dirty novella."

Kakashi muttered in his native language, deadpanned. The staff looked at Dumbledore for translation and the wise wizard sighed, reiterating calmly, "He says that 'it's a romance novel expressed through physical boundaries'."

The Librarian, and the rest of the staff in fact, squawked indignantly. "You mean you've been walking around reading pornography?!"

"I denounce this man as my colleague, Albus!"

"I will not set foot in this castle as long as he is here."

Dumbledore actually seemed a bit irritable and worried. "Settle down, my good professors. I'm sure there's an explanation to all this."

Snape eyed the outsider contemptuously, voice coated with menace. "We do not need such incompetence as an Inter-House Relations Deputy."

There was silence as the statement settled through the room – that is until Kakashi, standing idly as he read a passage from _Icha Icha Paradise_, snapped the book shut.

He stowed the novella away and eye-smiled, "I think I proved my point."

The professors gaped hearing his accented but otherwise perfectly pronounced English. Dumbledore was expressionless.

McGonagall was the first to recover. "Your English-!"

Cries of outrage followed. "You strung us along!"

Kakashi pressed a finger against his covered cheek. "Ah, it's like the saying goes, 'Assuming can make a…' Hm. What was it again, Professor Snape? The adage just escaped my mind…"

"You lying little snake!"

He found he didn't like being compared to a snake given the unfortunate connotations behind the creature. The jounin shrugged and admitted, "I guess it _is_ a bit deceitful of me…For that I'll graciously apologize."

Dumbledore seated himself behind his desk and asked calmly, "Mr. Hatake. What point did you prove? Don't leave my fine staff in anticipation."

"Yes, pray tell," murmured Madame Hooch coolly.

"Oh, well my point is that I would make an excellent Mediator." He then nodded curtly at Dumbledore. "Sorry, I wanted a new title…Hm…Mediator has a nice ring to it, right? I hope you don't mind."

"Title! You won't have a title. I demand you sack him, Dumbledore!" growled Phineas Nigellus Black in his portrait. "Disrespectful little…"

Dumbledore talked over the portrait. "No…I don't mind at all. I suppose this was what your superior mentioned, 'Underneath the underneath'?"

Hand on chin, he seemed thoughtful before his eye curved into a mockery of happiness. "Ah. Isn't it wonderful, seeing all of Hogwarts' staff_ working together_ trying to lynch their new addition?"

There was another lengthy silence and it was Madam Pomfrey who interrupted, "Please tell me you are jesting."

"Oh I kid you not." Kakashi leaned into the wall. "You can say I'll be using…"

"More innovative methods, Mr. Hatake?" quipped Dumbledore.

"Yes." The shinobi 'smiled'. "No hard feelings, I hope?"

The professors shifted uncomfortably, unable to detect whether the statement was sincere or tinted with ridicule. A few of them were still angry for being made a fool; some were embarrassed. The others nodded objectively, accepting the fact that they were outmanoeuvred and that there will be a Mediator.

Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "Good! If there are no more ill-wishes against Mr. Hatake's instatement as our Mediator, then may I suggest we head for dinner?"

To say the least, dinner was a tense affair.

* * *

**TBC**

**A/N:** Salutations fellow readers. On behalf of my cute side-project, I'd like to say thank you very much for the love :).

May we become better, as Kakashi puts it, _acquiescenses_, neh?

And what Kakashi was hinting on was, "Assuming can make an ass out of you", in case you missed it.

~Phoenyxx


	3. 03: Mundane

**Take Three:** Mundane (The Everyday On-goings)

* * *

Kakashi rolled up the thick, double-ended scroll Tsunade gave him at the beginning of the mission two weeks ago and chakra sealed it. Massaging his neck, the shinobi leaned back against his chair, staring absently at the smouldering embers in the fireplace. Early summer dawn painted the room a vivid golden haze and from his seat, he basked in the morning glow.

"Done already, Kakashi?" yawned his loyal pug, bleary eyes blinking through the young light.

"Sort of." He glanced at Pakkun as the nin-dog burrowed his nose into the pillow of _his_ unkempt bed – the one that the dog usurped sometime between 2 am and 4 am. Another sleepless night. Twirling the quill in his hand, he murmured, "I still have to write the first report back to Tsunade-sama."

Pakkun grunted, "Are you going to talk about how you single-handedly made enemies with the entire staff?"

"I don't consider them as enemies, Pakkun. They're just too...sensitive." The ninja rolled his eye and drew a sheaf of blank parchment paper in front of him. He dipped the quill into an inkwell and answered, "If I was subtle, they probably wouldn't have gotten the message anyway." His dog snorted with agreement before Kakashi commented, "Besides, everyone needs to learn a bit of humility once in awhile."

"Humility, huh?" Pakkun shook his fur out, smirking all the while. "Kind of like what they're forcing you to suffer in."

"You mean their juvenile cold-shoulder act?" Kakashi started to write the message to his Hokage without missing a beat. "Not exactly impressive...Though I have to admit, it is getting annoying."

Pakkun grumbled as he left the cozy bed and hopped onto the desk. "So how are you going to make-?"

Kakashi paused and stared pointedly at the pug, daring him to finish the sentence.

"...Right." The nin-dog sighed. "No friends - but how about getting back into their good books? I'm pretty sure it said somewhere in that mission scroll..."

"It'll work out in the end. I'm merely here to help the magical brats. Having the professors' compliances would've made my job easier but it's not exactly necessary."

He sniffed. "You're confident about all this?" '_This_' implied 'awkward social situations'.

Kakashi didn't bother with a response; instead, he immersed the quill tip into the black ink and continued to write.

"Yeah yeah I get it." Pakkun wiggled his nose, catching a whiff of Kakashi's general displeasure. "You know I wouldn't be frying you with twenty-twenty questions if there was food around here. Where's the _chicken_? Or better yet, broiled pork with beef jerky biscuits sounds good right about now."

Kakashi poked the pug against his stomach with the end of the quill. "Thinking about food so early? Aren't you afraid of getting that pooch belly?"

The dog reciprocated with a grumble, remarking sarcastically, "It's called breakfast, boss...I know that word isn't in your vocabulary but it's in _mine_."

"Touchy."

"Yeah, yeah, can we _go_ yet? I can feel my stomach lining turning inside out and outside in and..."

Kakashi placed the quill down and took the time to rub the sensitive spot behind Pakkun's ear much to his victim's distracted pleasure-displeasure.

"Well?"

"You...brat-" Pakkun grumbled and laid his head on top of his paws. "Quit...that-and get back to writing the-"

-And then his tail betrayed him when it thumped once – and then twice and thrice – against the wooden desk. The pug snuffed warningly, "Not a word..."

The ninja raised his visible right eyebrow, almost taunting. "Wouldn't dare. Not for the world."

His nin-dog growled irritably. On the other side, his tail twitched.

Kakashi hummed and rubbed the back of the tiny skull. _"Now isn't that just cute?_ _A puddle of dog under my hand."_

A few moments later, Pakkun's tongue lolled – that was, until he remembered himself and groused irritably, "Quit it-!"

"Alright alright..." And true to his word, his hand left Pakkun's fur – only, of course, after ruffling his head, which resulted in several complaints and a bite to the wrist.

"That hurts, you know."

"Well cry me a river."

Kakashi snorted and gave up teasing his pug. Instead, he turned his attention back to his short letter and gave it a careful once over.

For his lazy demeanour, he could certainly be contradictory with his actions. As most people believed him to have a messy, illegible scrawl, Kakashi surprisingly wrote with meticulous, concise writing, honed by the constant reminder from his father during his infantile pre-genin days.

"_Now Kakashi...__"_

_The tiny boy kneeling on top of the books stacked onto a chair swivelled his head to glance at the man beside him. "Yes father?"_

_Sakumo Hatake took the writing utensil from his five-year-old son and started, "The final report is a very crucial element in the completion of any shinobi mission. A mission should never be half-heartedly finished so the report must be detailed but succinct with legible writing..."_

"_...Su-su-sint?" The child frowned gently as he mulled through the word._

"_Succinct. Clear. __To the point." Konoha's White Fang suppressed the fond grin. "Do you understand, Kakashi?"_

_He chewed his lip and nodded, "Yes. To the point with neat handwriting."_

"_That's right. That's how you write mission reports.__..Not like what _Uncle Jiraiya_ mentioned, that dratted-"_

_The rest of the scandalous commentary about Jiraiya was carefully tuned out as he __examined his father's orderly, defined writing..._

Even now he took those words to heart as he wrote a coded signature onto the sleeve of the letter before sealing it. Kakashi sighed and leaned back into his seat, balancing his weight onto the two hind legs of the chair. Pakkun stared at him expectantly and the (currently) dark-haired shinobi at last complied, "Let's go then and get that breakfast you wanted."

The nin-dog perked up, shaking his fur out, and drawled, "Finally..."

"Don't push your luck."

"Got it boss...But as long as you toss in some extra ox tongues and bacon..."

"No, Pakkun." He sighed, eye rolling heavenwards as he considered the rest of his eclectic dog pack. "I don't want to hear you complain about indigestion later..."

* * *

Kakashi tugged at his downy-white scarf, watching as the owls in the Owlery fly overhead. At his heels, the nin-dog growled lowly.

"What-" whined Pakkun in disgust, waving his paw with an aggravated motion, "-are we doing, wading in pigeon guano? I thought we had a deal here. Breakfast."

"We mail the letter first." Kakashi peered into the middle of the rafters, almost immediately spotting the earthen brown hawk sitting imperiously at her perch. Native to Konoha, the fierce bird had a red string tied around her neck with the Konoha leaf symbol etched into the metal tag. The normal inhabitants of the aviary gave the golden-eyed bird a wide berth, fluffing their feathers in a massive crowd on wooden support beams closer to the stone walls.

He could feel the tendrils of chakra from the tag as he whistled lowly. The hawk, Awaji, fluttered ghostly silent towards them and landed on his arm, claws curling around the cloth of his cloak. She gazed at him expectantly, intelligently.

Pakkun stared at the bird and asked, "So how is she going back to Konoha? You aren't seriously considering in sending her across several seas...Right?"

"The client mentioned a specialized avian portkey." Kakashi stroked the crest of dappled white feathers before expertly securing the letter on her talons. "In long cross continental distances, a magical key is attached to the bird. Once the bird leaves the border of the country, the portkey will activate and send the bird to the outskirts of the destination."

Pakkun spat out a drifting feather from his mouth and grumbled, "Sounds fast."

"Ah. As long as Awaji isn't sent into a lake after the portkey activates, I'm sure the letter will get to Tsunade-sama in record time."

The pug chortled at his heels before nosing his ankle impatiently. "Hurry up then. I can feel bird mites crawling in my fur."

"Bird mites?"

"You know. Tiny bugs with wings that suck out your blood." Pakkun itched the back of his ear with his hind leg self-consciously.

"It's a psychological effect." After a beat, he added suspiciously, "I know you're hungry but the excuses to get us out of here quicker..."

"Excuses?! I may be hungry but that has nothing to do with the bird mites. They're _real_. You want me to bite you so you can experience what I'm feelin' here?"

"Ah...Calm down. Calm down..." Awaji's shrill, short cry punctuated Kakashi's placating words.

The pug glared at the bird perched on his master before grumbling lowly, "...As if I'd like to wander 'round here like a free buffet table on legs...Stupid bird."

Awaji twitched her wings and tilted her head. The pug rolled his eyes and trotted towards the door of the aviary.

With a doubtful glance back at his nin-dog, Kakashi finally led the hawk to an open window. Awaji tossed her head once more, in good bye this time, before unveiling strong, expansive wings. Soaring out into fresh air, the hawk wheeled once, twice, and then screeched proudly, eagerly.

The parchment letter was hidden in the belly of white feathers as he watched her off.

* * *

Poppy Pomfrey liked to think of herself as a patient, nurturing Mother figure for Hogwarts. By the book practice was how she healed those under her care; secretly, intricate spells and delicate potions conjugated into this highly skilled art thrilled her to the bones. A certain kind of satisfaction – "I stopped the pain. The wound healed over. I saved them from _death_." – just couldn't be obtained in other careers.

...Unless of course she forfeited her normal life to be an Auror or Unspeakable, which she had no intention of ever doing...

In cuisine, she liked her tea sweet with a dollop of pixie sugar and goat's cream. Her rooms were always self-tidied without the aid of House elves and all papers were filed in alphabetical order – sometimes in year when subcategories overlapped. She had a healthy dislike for muggle medical technology and a liking for rowdy debates held during the MUTTs, Mediwizards United Towards a Tomorrow, a medical procedure discussion forum.

She also enjoyed a few PIGs too but abhorred COWs – that is, 'Plays by Igor Gorgorfkof' and 'Conventions of Owl Wrights' respectively.

Like any good medic, she was also quite conscious about hygiene so it came to no surprise when she stopped in midstride, a hand inching over her open mouth in disgust.

The scene at the Great Hall made her stomach tumble.

An ugly wrinkled dog was sitting on her table space, chewing on a raw slab of steak with vigour. Even from afar, she could see the rivulets of blood seeping into the grains of the wood, and she fumed when she noticed that Hatake was watching the dog with blatant amusement.

She marched up towards the pair who was committing the atrocious hygiene crime and greeted icily, "Hello Hatake."

"Good morning Madam Pomfrey." The Mediator picked up his fork and poked at his waffle. "You are quite early today."

Indeed, no one else was at the Great Hall yet so there was no one present to watch their verbal exchange.

She muttered bitterly. The dog paused in mid-bite as if eying her suspiciously. Pomfrey finally spoke up again. "Pet animals are not allowed on the tables of the Great Hall."

The pug seemed to bristle at her tone. Hatake stroked his fur before tugging at his collar warningly. "He's not my pet, per se, and technically, humans – _Homo sapiens_ – are animals too."

"That is taking my words far out of context, Hatake."

"Not really. And if we are technically considered as animals...Well, shouldn't we also kick ourselves out of the Great Hall then?" She fumed and Hatake continued blithely, "I only speak the truth."

The dog growled lowly in the garbled, native language that she couldn't understand but was spoken by Hatake. ("Just sit down lady and eat your breakfast. It's too early for trouble.")

Her eyes widened. "It...It..."

Hatake admonished the pug half-heartedly. ("Manners, Pakkun.")

Pakkun's rumble converted mid-way into a whine. ("Not my problem boss.")

She found her voice and interrupted, "It can _talk_."

The dog snorted irritably, ("What's she so shocked about? Tell her to quit staring at me.")

Colouring significantly as the dog addressed her angrily, she opened her mouth to speak again, but Hatake beat her to it.

("Pakkun...") he warned. The dog grumbled and started to chew on his steak again, falling silent.

"Hatake. He _is_ a dog, right?" She stared at Pakkun quizzically. "He's not an illegal, unregistered animagus...?"

He tested the word and frowned. "Ani-magus?"

"A person that can morph into an animal using magic."

"No...Pakkun isn't an animagus." The man waved his fork. "Why are you so amazed? You have creatures that are half human and half equine. There are fish-people, dragons, goblins, giant spiders, man-eating plants, man-eating plants that spit acid...And you're surprised by a _talking dog_?"

Pomfrey was unconvinced as she shuffled to a seat farther away from 'Pakkun' and Hatake. "Usually, dogs, magical or not, do not have the capabilities to learn the human language."

He shrugged. "He's smart."

The pug groused as he watched her, ("She's ruining my breakfast time with that staring. I should've bitten her nose off.")

("I'm sure you can smell it Pakkun. She's a medic. You don't mess with medics.")

("Fine. Only when you're not watching then.")

Hatake snorted in amusement and stabbed at his waffles again. Pomfrey had a feeling that they were talking about her but she did not voice her concerns, instead opting to focus on her breakfast.

She couldn't place a finger on it, but Pakkun felt strange in a magical sense...

"_Maybe Filius or Minerva can understand this better..."_

* * *

Madam Pince glowered as she watched him amble into her territory alone. There was no sign of that sorry-for-an-excuse piece of 'literature' on his person but she wasn't about to take those chances with such a wily one...

"Hello, Mr. Hatake."

The man seemed resigned as he stared at her, bored, with one eye. "Madam Pince. I don't have it with me."

His attitude surely needed adjusting. "Might I remind you that-"

"-That 'you don't need the taint of such books in the Hogwarts school library' and 'that it's absolutely sacrilegious and vulgar when such poppycock is printed on paper'. Am I right?"

Pince didn't appreciate his unconcerned tone of voice but could not fault him on his memorization. "Yes, that's right. I hope you will continue to keep those words at heart."

He smiled this time – or at least she thought he did. "Ah. Certainly."

She felt the bite of his derision and glared at him heatedly. No one dared take Irma Pince lightly at Hogwarts when it concerned written word; even the poltergeist, Peeves, knew when he was not welcomed in the library.

Unfazed, the Hatake made his way to the public section of the library, her eyes tracking his every movement. Once he disappeared behind the corner, she gazed at the special tracking monitor underneath her desk. She could distinctly make out a head of black hair milling within the 'English Language' section.

What she didn't see was the quiet snickering as Hatake hid a distinctly orange book behind two thick tomes of English Grammar and Pronunciation texts.

"_If only Professor Dumbledore didn't have to give him permission...I would gladly throw him out...__He didn't destroy _your_ favourite quill, now did he, Headmaster?"_ Dissatisfied with not having the upper hand, Pince began to viciously shelve her books. She muttered under her breath, "Coming here everyday...Studying _English_...What rubbish...For all we know...He's absolutely fluent."

Behind her, the wooden pedestal cradled her broken quill memorabilia in remembrance...

...She _will_ have her revenge, one way or another.

* * *

Taking time to enjoy his afternoon tea, Dumbledore was not expecting guests in his office at half past twelve when the meeting was scheduled for five past one.

A knock against the door. "Headmaster."

He set his tea down. "Come in."

The doors swept open revealing Severus Snape and Kingsley Shacklebolt at the stairwell. The latter was chuckling gaily before sobering at the face of his superior.

"Severus. Kingsley." Dumbledore glanced at the silver clock hung across the room and remarked candidly, "I believe it's a bit early for the meeting."

"Mmm...Sorry Professor." The Auror quirked a smile when he spotted the tea biscuits on a warmed tray. "I hope we aren't intruding but my shift was rescheduled at the Ministry today so I had to come early..."

"That's fine. Please, take a seat." Dumbledore pushed away his china, pausing as his guests got comfortable.

Getting straight to the point, Snape sniffed, "We crossed paths with Hatake while we were on our way to your office."

Dumbledore fiddled with a silver instrument on his desk. "Excellent. And what are your impressions, Kingsley?"

"Quite strange. He has a talking dog." Kingsley suppressed the grin upon the mention, glancing back at Snape's gloomy disposition.

"Oh yes. I've had a chance conversation with Pakkun. Indeed, he's quite the charming fellow."

The coloured wizard murmured, "Yes, charming. His master however..."

"Irksome."

Shacklebolt calmly amended Snape's outburst. "More like analytical and two-faced...Excuse the irony."

The Headmaster hummed. "No, yes I agree...to an extent."

"Hm. But even under my scrutiny, he was incredibly guarded and controlled." Kingsley seemed to nod decisively. "I can see why the Eastern magical community would choose him as their diplomat."

Snape interrupted, questioning the elderly wizard, "Why not Occlumency?"

Blue eyes gazed at Severus wearily and seriously. "I have warned you once at the beginning and I do so again. Do not attempt to read his mind, Severus. It is much too dangerous."

"Dangerous how?" Kingsley sat up straighter in his seat, attentively observing his superior with a shrewd gaze.

"As you are aware, he is of Eastern wizardry descent."

"Yes, but he is a squib," pointed out Snape.

"Not quite, rather in English, there is no perfect classification for his abilities." Dumbledore threaded his fingers together. "There are ancient arts within the Asian communities that are handed down from generation to generation. I have gathered from sources that this includes a rather horrific way in protecting ones' mind from tampering – by traumatizing the intruder permanently."

Neither Shacklebolt, who was well-versed in body language, nor Snape, who was superb with Occlumency, could discern Dumbledore's dishonesty in his explanation.

"Indeed, coupled with the fact that Mr. Hatake is considered a prodigy in his country, there is room for creative changes and improvements on these skills."

Snape knew a lot about prodigies and geniuses, working as a pawn for the two sides being led by their own prospective intellectual. He frowned disapprovingly, knowing that Dumbledore understood his reservations. "Hrm. Prodigy."

"That certainly explains the self-confidence," remarked Kingsley.

Dumbledore chuckled briefly and clarified, "But aside, our primary goal isn't about delving into the mind of Mr. Hatake. I only wished for an account of unbiased first impression."

"What for?"

"And that is the reason for our meeting." Dumbledore addressed Snape, "Thank you Severus but I have a private matter to discuss with Kingsley."

"I understand." The Potions Master left the room silently, black cloak disappearing behind the closing door.

Shacklebolt laced his fingers together complacently. "I've read your message carefully, Dumbledore."

"And what do you think of this situation?"

His deep voice echoed in the quiet room. "I understand your concerns that the Ministry might try and rush a formation of a stable relationship with the Asian wizards now that a representative is here at Hogwarts. That may be quite risky considering the nature of our guest."

"Yes, those are my thoughts as well..." Dumbledore was contemplative for a moment before he spoke, "...Which is why I ask that you to do something additional for me. Consider it a favour."

"What is it Professor?"

Dumbledore smiled softly, "He will be going. I will send him there with my trusted staff. It will not do to keep him grounded in Hogwarts without exploring the rest of the United Kingdom."

"I see..." Shacklebolt nodded slowly, considering.

The Headmaster continued, "So please, keep an eye on the people _around_ him during the pre and post match."

"But if he is as smart as you claim then..." Kingsley murmured, "An analytical mind for infinite details will notice."

"He will understand. The Ministry however..." Dumbledore gazed at Shacklebolt silently and the Auror understood.

Another secret for the greater good of the Ministry.

* * *

When Shacklebolt departed from Hogwarts, the minor details were arranged accordingly. At dusk, Dumbledore joined the rest of his staff at dinnertime with an interesting announcement.

Kakashi was invited to the Quidditch World Cup by the Ministry of Magic.

* * *

TBC

**A/N:** Wow. An actual plot! I surprise myself sometimes XD

Also, Pakkun and Kakashi = love.

~Phoenyxx


	4. 04: Tactics

**Take Four:** Tactics (and Fanatics)

* * *

"Eleven-twenty-six from Hogsmede," announced the man in the old-fashioned tweed suit and fisherman's galoshes. He consulted a round, gold watch in a religious manner, wiping away imaginary grime from the glass surface.

Unruffled by his second portkey experience, Kakashi stood up from his crouch and gazed into the foggy, desolate moorlands, impenetrable even by the near-noon sunshine. At his side Madam Hooch and Professors Sinistra and Flitwick were equally composed.

He scratched at the junction between his ear and cranium, the string of the eye patch he donned for the occasion digging into his skin. Glancing at his own attire of civilian jeans, long-sleeved black shirt, and black mask (it was sorely missed during the past three weeks), he wondered if there was a mistake. He must have lost the memo telling him that he would stick out like a sore thumb if he dressed like a 'muggle' and not a 'wizard _trying_ to dress like a muggle'.

Even for his tastes, that was just a bit too counterintuitive.

He eyed the pair of wizards that greeted their party, wondering if it was pure obliviousness for civilian style or a genuine thought that they actually looked like 'muggles' in their getups. At his elbow, Flitwick familiarly greeted the two men committing the, in his humble opinion, fashion mistakes. "It's been quite a long time Basil. Sorrel."

"Professors!" The man, Basil, with the layered poncho-kilt catastrophe waved his quill in greeting. "Here to enjoy the World Cup?"

"Oh yes. It's time to cheer on the Irish team." Madam Hooch smiled eagerly. A crown of bright green clover leaves was interwoven with her hair, showing clear support for her favoured Quidditch team.

Sinistra glanced around, fiddling with the bangles around her wrist. "Has it been a long day?" She was dressed in an outdated milk maid's outfit.

"Busy and tiring," boomed Sorrel loudly, tweaking his gaudy plaid tie. "Quite eventful. Had a party of fourteen just now. Busy busy. Very busy."

"Well it is the Quidditch World Cup." Hooch spoke the words reverently.

"Yes, yes - but on to business. This party is registered as…?" Basil consulted the length of parchment at hand.

Sinistra sniffed and answered wispily, "Hogwarts."

"Yes, yes. Hogwarts. A party of four…Ah-!" His eyes paused near the top of the list. "Heading off to Mr. Potts' field, you are. West of here – housed with the rest of our more notable company…Good news. The living quarters are pre-arranged too. For the Ministry's special guest I believe it was..."

Kakashi felt the focus shift to his person and he murmured negligently, "Hm? Are you talking to me?"

The man sputtered, turning a pale pink, but Flitwick intervened efficiently, "Thank you for a job well done, Basil. We'll be on our way now."

Basil wilted, "-O-Of course."

Sorrel checked the golden watch and coughed, "Yes. Busy schedule. Another party is about to arrive."

Flitwick waved one last time before leading the party to their luxury one-night tents. "This way."

Following along, Kakashi observed his surroundings analytically, eyes taking in minute details as more and more badly-dressed witches and wizards came in sight. Tents that did not resemble tents – more like elaborate, magical canopies – were pitched to-and-fro – scattered multicoloured seeds in a garden. Playing Merlin's tag, wild children ran by, squealing as they weaved around their legs. Adults were roasting lunch in ill-conceived camp fires, fires that looked ready to jump out of their pits and set aflame the nearest tree (But it's an elementary skill...!). Brooms soared by his head, bristles brushing his hair as they swerved too close.

Kakashi scowled behind his mask.

All in all, it resembled an uncontrolled gathering of people under sweltering summer conditions. Despite the blatant display of magic, he could not see the culture behind this.

…Unless of course, this rally-like atmosphere _was_ 'the culture' Dumbledore chattered on about. Then really, he didn't feel like he was missing much. If he wanted a mass gathering of animated, excitable people, all he had to do was find Naruto and ask him to use his Multi-Shadow Clone jutsu.

Instant '_fiesta_'.

* * *

When they neared their designated Prussian blue tent, Kakashi pretended obliviousness to Sinistra's surprised flinch. To his immediate left, Flitwick appeared peakish, adjusting his gleaming glasses purposefully. Even distracted Madam Hooch, enchanted by the hurrah-hurrah atmosphere, paused for a second to primly smooth out her pencil skirt.

Carefully leaning to one side, he observed the person flittering towards them

"Hem hem."

Kakashi frowned. Can a woman really wear that much pink under high-noon daylight? Sakura would probably have an aneurysm if she saw her.

He had never found the colour that alarming until now.

The imagery presented (dashed with a black, velvet bow he might add) outcompeted the 'pink couches and red doilies' excuse he concocted during his first week at Hogwarts. In fact, her fluorescent clothes could very well give pink couches a bad name. What gaudiness. Well. At least the woman had the decency to hide her distaste behind a lipstick red smile.

The shorter woman simpered behind a dimpled grin. "Hem hem. How wonderful. How wonderful." She paused and lifted a hand in greeting, smiling overbearingly. "You must be Mister Kakashi Hatake. The Ministry has heard great things about you from your country. We are honoured that you're here on such...friendly terms."

* * *

Dumbledore interjected smoothly in Konoha's native language, "Your identity has never been revealed to the Ministry, Mr. Hatake."

"Hnm." Kakashi turned a page of his book. _"Hmm...Lying to your own government?"_

"And your alibi..."

The shinobi rested the novel against his lap gently. "I suppose that's already taken care of?"

"Oh yes – in fact when you first arrived in the wizarding world. But even up until now your alibi is being extended. Continually fabricated, if you will." Dumbledore gazed at him neutrally. "Care must be taken when interacting with the Ministry."

A very brief pause.

"...I'm sorry to say but even the ones in governmental positions don't view your shinobi nations very highly." There was plenty left unsaid. _They have an agenda._

"All_ politicians have an agenda...Does it coincide with mine is another question all together." _But Kakashi kept those thoughts to himself and instead eye-smiled. "Figures. So when will I get to know this 'Kakashi Hatake' fellow?"

"Soon. Very soon." Dumbledore opened a drawer in his desk and withdrew a stack of papers. "Hopefully you'll find the background acceptable."

The shinobi shrugged, running a thumb over the edges of the parchment, and commented frankly, "As you are my client who has invested much time over this, I am in no position to complain. But..."

Dumbledore watched him with quiet power behind every minute movement. "Yes?"

Regardless of the warning, Kakashi continued, "But I will adjust the story if necessary."

* * *

Kakashi considered the rotund Ministry official in front of him, oozing a honey-sweet..._girliness_, and made his decision. _A lie for a lie_. Equally insincere, he bowed and commented blithely with a heavy accent, "The plea-sure is all mine, Miss...?"

She batted her eyelashes and rested a hand over her buxom dramatically. "Oh yes how silly of me. Dolores Umbridge." Her pitched voice gave way to a short, airy laugh. "Unfortunately, Minister Fudge is quite busy at the moment entertaining other affairs. But I assure you that you'll have the opportunity to meet the prestigious man himself soon enough."

"Hum, a man of politics...Always busy with the weaving-"

He felt his Hogwarts 'colleagues' hold in a breath. They were probably wondering if he was going to criticize their Minister in front of an – obviously – upper echelon Ministry worker. And perhaps, they might also be thinking up reasons on why he reverted back to his 'foreign English' _now_ of all times...

_Dishonesty__. Your body language betrays you, Umbridge. _"-the weaving of relaton-sips. And net-works." Kakashi flourished his hand in dismissal. "No, no. I not...off...offemd? No...offen_ded_ by his missing."

"Merciful in nature?" Umbridge rested both hands in front of her, clearly ignoring his butchering of English with dignity. "A befitting personality – exactly what I expected of one with an Asian ancestry of pure-blooded wizards."

Hiding behind his own veil of _libel_ and _deceits _and_ truths_, he bowed curtly once more, making eye contact as he shifted stances. "I am glad I meet your estemmed ex-pecter-ta-tons Miss Um-Um-Um-Hum...Excuse me."

"Umbridge. Dolores Um-_bridge_." The botched sugar-coated compliment did not waver the Senior Under-Secretary's mannerisms. "And-"

"Excuse me Madam."

Kakashi shifted his attention to the fast approaching wizard with the awfully familiar face...

Umbridge cleared her throat noisily, hiding her annoyance at being interrupted. "Yes, Mr. Shacklebolt?"

The tall, dark man, Kingsley Shacklebolt, halted at a respectable step from the pair and murmured quietly, "The Minister is in need of your expertise with the Bulgarian delegation."

"Hem hem. I understand." Waving her hand in a motion best perceived as 'SHOO', she grinned winsomely at Kakashi, revealing pearly white teeth. "Terribly sorry my dear diplomat friend but duty calls. Please, go forth and be acquainted with your living quarters. I'm sure Mr. Kingsley Shacklebolt here will be happy to assist you."

_Diplomat__ friend_. Interesting. Perhaps he did have diplomatic immunity in this country – a first, considering his notoriety in the Bingo Books back home. Kakashi acquiesced grandly, "Yes, go to your import-tant du-tees. I go explore."

He did not miss the flicker of amusement in her companion's deep, brown eyes.

Umbridge rounded on Shacklebolt with overt meaning. "Ensure our guests are treated well..." In a louder voice, she said, "Hem hem. I shall see you later this evening then Mr. Hatake. Professors. Good day to you all."

"Good day, Madam." Flitwick tilted his fur cap and the women nodded, keeping their silence. Kakashi waved goodbye cheerfully.

She departed soon after, tottering along and disappearing into the midst of tents. The three original Hogwarts instructors seemed to heave a sigh of relief. Kakashi slouched into his posture, bored and unflappable.

He noticed Hooch opening her mouth before snapping it shut again; clearly, she was still not over the mockery he had inflicted. As always in the past three weeks, she merely gazed at him standoffishly.

It was Flitwick who started hesitatingly, "Good woman. Dedicated to her job."

"Hm." He neither agreed nor disagreed.

Sinistra sniffed haughtily. "She was a bit rude."

"_Aurora_-" Hooch waved towards Shacklebolt – the outsider who _works for the Ministry_ – meaningfully. Sinistra couldn't quite bring herself to care.

At the insinuations and rapid gesturing, Kingsley's nose flared but the man otherwise did not comment.

Kakashi creased his eye into a caricature of a smile. "I don't think Mr. Shacklebolt really cares what we think."

He noticed that that elicited a careful eyebrow-raise response from the man in question (Was that anxiety?). Kakashi commented with misdirection around Hooch's glower, "Not that your opinions don't matter, Madam, but Mr. Shacklebolt appears to only care about catering to our every needs."

But oh, how Kakashi knew through gut instincts that Kingsley Shacklebolt was fishing for something _from_ him...For one, why didn't he call him out on Umbridge when he knew he was faking?

Slightly uneasy by the leering, Shacklebolt coughed quietly in attention. "If you would please, to your right is the designated tent. You will find the quarters most accommodating."

"Thank you sir," acknowledged Sinistra. And that, apparently, was that as she floated through the entranceway draped with fine silk.

"Knowing her she's probably off sleeping," sighed Hooch, disapproving. "What a waste of precious time."

"Now now Madam." Flitwick patted her arm gently. "You and I both know she prefers the night."

"Well yes but at the _Quidditch World Cup_, Filius! I think I will convince her to come along with me in making rounds."

"But-"

"Don't worry. She _will_ thank me later." Madam Hooch strode purposefully into the tent, a worthy mission at hand.

Kakashi shifted. At his side, Shacklebolt stood stone still.

"She should learn that Aurora's on her nocturnal cycle." Flitwick slumped over in defeat before carefully repositioning his fur cap, asking tiredly, "Well Mr. Hatake. What about you?"

"Hm." Kakashi replied almost immediately, "Exploring."

"Excellent! I will come with you then." "I will accompany you."

He glanced at them both – Flitwick with his sudden eager disposition and Shacklebolt and his collected appearance. Only curiosity was at the forefront of his mind as he shrugged. "Sure."

Flitwick brightened considerably. "It's best to be away when they are squabbling..." Shacklebolt nodded empathically when the tiny Professor chattered away, "And it wouldn't do to let Mr. Hatake wander around alone…No it won't do at all..."

_Interesting__._ Why were they so keen on chaperoning him like, dare he compare to, a virgin girl?

* * *

The lump under the covers twitched. "_Please_ Rolanda."

Rolanda Hooch with hands on her hips started to sternly reprimand the poor Astronomy Professor. "Now Aurora you know that on any other day I would let you do as you wish but _really_. The Quidditch World Cup! The _World Cup_! The. _World_-"

Sinistra growled, "I've already lost half a day's sleep."

"Which you can get any other time!" Hooch paced at the foot of her bed, agitated. "It's much too lonely wandering around the festivities unaccompanied."

"Then get Hatake instead," muttered the Professor almost snidely.

"They already left without me and besides, he's Filius' concern. _Not mine_," groused the Flying Instructor. "No one comes between me and my broomsticks thank you very much."

Just thinking about her reaction though…Hooch could still feel the mortifying embarrassment overshadow the anger.

"Yes but no one cared when the moon scales were vandalized. I had to spend the last two weeks fixing the instrument...At least yours was an illusion of sorts," spoke Sinistra, voice muffled by the blankets.

"There there..." Feeling a smidgen of pity for the Astronomy Professor, she patted the bony shoulder jutting from the bed.

Sinistra shrugged her off and sat up, revealing a dark scowl beneath the mess of long black locks. "And what about the 'English'? I thought that was all behind him now."

The bed dipped under the new weight as Hooch inched aboard. "Well at least it's Umbridge. Did you know that that horrid woman has been stirring up trouble lately? I'm acquainted with a witch who works in the Ministry's third floor; I often have tea with her during our Monté Literacy Board meetings. She's been venting about how Umbridge was one of the more outspoken members against Agatha – you know, Agatha Rookmord the one who was addled in the brains because of a wayward _Toxikon_ spell. Really, you would think the Ministry would have more security when experimenting with the Dark Arts..."

"Yes, yes. It was hard not to notice with those scandalous headlines pasted across _The_ _Daily Prophet_."

"Well behind the scenes Umbridge claimed 'mental folks' shouldn't have a leave of absence pay. I mean, even so, it was _clearly_ the Ministry at fault so to not take responsibility..."

Sinistra paused, a finely plucked eyebrow raised. "_What_ a load of flying bat dung."

"Exactly. Not that anyone would speak of it to her face…"

"Job loss on the rise?"

"Oh yes, especially those directly confronting Umbridge."

Sinistra murmured, "Makes me glad I decided on Astronomy and placed aside all notions of joining the cubicle club."

"_You_ wanted to join the Ministry?"

"I certainly never imagined children in my future."

Hooch contained an unwomanly snort and appraised her much-more-awake companion. "Well?"

"…What?"

"Let's _go_ and enjoy the sunshine, Aurora. We can continue to share our shameful gossip while walking." Hooch leapt up onto her feet. "I would very much like to bask in the energizing glow of a beautiful Quidditch competition!"

Seeing that her gushing friend really was quite adamant on her participation, she sighed and conceded, "Alright, Rolanda, you win."

"Yes and so will the Irish team!" Eyes gleaming, Hooch exclaimed, "To the vendors! My Galleons are burning a hole in my pocket."

* * *

Flitwick found Kakashi quite...Well...Odd.

With that disastrous first week behind him, Flitwick kept to neutral grounds when dealing with the strange foreigner. After all, there was enough negativity and attitude from the rest of the staff without him adding to it. And so with the high road firmly beneath his feet, Flitwick figured that maybe he'd make an effort to know his newly minted colleague better.

...Sadly, it did not work as well as he had hoped with such a quirky individual. It was interesting to note that he was often accompanied by one of his several talking dogs (most of the staff still couldn't get their heads around that fact). In fact, Hatake had a penchant for strange habits. In numerous occasions, he could be seen wandering the halls while reading a thick tome on the English language and parading in a garish spring green scarf. At other instances, he could be caught twisting the fingers of his right hand in odd angles, as if forming half symbols. And oftentimes after a lengthy contortion session, there would be a stark absence of figures in the paintings (when questioned, they responded with a 'felt queasy'). Even the ghosts were known to flee from the scene when his hands twisted into strange signs.

...Then again, the ghosts didn't seem to like Kakashi much (Or was it the other way around?). Everyone else could only ponder upon the reasons behind this.

Very bizarre behaviour.

So when Dumbledore asked him to accompany Hatake to the Quidditch World Cup, Flitwick felt perhaps that maybe his interest on the mystery surrounding the man could be satisfied. But alas, quite the opposite occurred. His curiosity was piqued instead, especially when he was also asked to 'watch out for him'. From what, he was not certain nor did Dumbledore divulge any greater secret. But with Shacklebolt trailing after them, always at an immediate step behind, he knew there was something afoot. A strange aura seemed to follow Kakashi everywhere. At times in close proximity, Flitwick would feel uneasy, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

...Perhaps the Hatake was cursed at birth...?

Glancing at his intriguing colleague, he noticed the docile slouch, hands pocketed seemingly without purpose; even his lone eye was exuding an emotion close to disinterest and apathy. But as an accomplished duellist, Flitwick was versed in looking for weak points and openings in posture. Kakashi, subconsciously or not, must have a fondness for being contradictory. He had to confess, it was always a challenge in just examining his foreign companion for weakness.

Challenging _and_ fascinating, even. He found no misbalance in his seemingly awkward posture and form. This observation was vindicated when he watched him easily avoid five buckets of water that sailed and upturned in midair.

The nearby red-haired man, however, was not as fortunate.

* * *

"Are you alright young man?" Flitwick, wand in hand, approached the soaking wet wizard with concern.

Kakashi shuffled after the diminutive Professor. Behind him with the slightest height advantage, Shacklebolt stood guardedly. The bald man did nothing to dissuade his presence so Kakashi tolerated the guard dogging his heels. After all, if he didn't want his company, he would've led them all under that water...

"Ah, thank you. I'm quite fine – no harm done. Just a bit wet is all." The stocky red-head looked up to offer a quick grin before doing a double-take. "Professor? I almost didn't recognize you in your muggle disguise!"

"Charlie Weasley. It's good to see you again." Flitwick, with a soft murmur and a wave of his wand, instantly dried Charlie's clothes.

"Thanks Professor." The red-head brushed his outfit down and asked genially, "How are the students? Bill and I've heard that our brothers have been causing quite the ruckus."

"They're spirited fellows, I'll give them that." Flitwick pocketed his wand. "I presume they're here with the rest of your family?"

"Except for my mum." Charlie ran a hand through wet hair, freckles camouflaged by his tanned pallor. "She's at home. She never did fancy Quidditch much."

Kakashi felt a tinge of humour when he heard that. He didn't even know what Quidditch was other than the fact that there were brooms and balls involved and yet, here he was, milling around at the event.

Flitwick seemed to share his attitude when he nodded approvingly. "I can understand her sentiments."

Charlie, a former Gryffindor Quidditch player _and_ avid Quidditch fan, agreed half-heartedly. "I guess." He paused, glancing back at Shacklebolt and Kakashi, grinning, "So you're here with your friends to enjoy the World Cup match as well, Professor?"

"There's no harm in a bit of excitement." Flitwick gestured towards the two towering men behind him. "And yes, this is..."

He trailed off and Shacklebolt picked up the conversation, rumbling, "Kingsley Shacklebolt. Auror. Currently a part of the Ministry security effort."

The group waited expectantly for the ninja's introduction but he kept them lingering, blinking at them blandly at intervals. After a while, Flitwick coughed into one hand and answered for him, "This fellow is Kakashi Hatake." He beckoned Charlie to bend down to ear level and whispered, "He's the new Hogwarts _Mediator_."

The taller man thought for a bit, muttering, "Mediator...Mediator...You mean-The Triwizard-?" At Flitwick's nod, the dragon keeper glanced at the shinobi, eyes alighting with recognition. "It's nice to meet you Mr. Hatake."

Kakashi bobbed his head belated, right eyebrow raised. "Mr. Weasley. I didn't know I had a public reputation here..."

Charlie grinned quickly, "The general public doesn't have privy to the information actually; it's only the ones with family members in the Ministry network."

"..."

Undeterred, the red-head started, "So Mr. Hatake, where do you hail from?" Flitwick and Shacklebolt held their silence, also curious for his response.

"Eastern Asia."

"Oh? I've always wanted to go there."

"I see."

"Yes, I hear they have fantastic breeds of dragons that sometimes approach the numerous mountain villages."

Kakashi paused. Well, he did know the 'Water Release: Water Dragon Projectile' jutsu and there really were a few mountain villages in Fire Country, and he may have performed the Water Dragon jutsu _in_ a mountain village on occasion...

Taking his silence in stride, Charlie queried, "Do you live near, on, or maybe even _in_ a mountain?"

Surely the Hokage Mountain counts..."..._Near_ - Yes. _On_ - Not really._ In_ - No."

"Really? Near a mountain? Which chain?" The red-head was genuinely excited. "There have recently been reports of a divergence in the line of Chinese Fireballs, producing offspring with violet-hued scales." He gestured passionately, "Somewhere in the higher altitudes up north. I hear that they're quite the beauts."

_Chinese Fireball? _He shrugged. "I live in a..." He traced a circle with his finger in the air and then an x. "I think you call it unplottable...?"

"A region that's unplottable?" Charlie frowned, immediately disappointed. "That's a shame."

Kakashi considered how easily Charlie accepted unplottable areas like a common occurrence. Even with his brief research stints into various countries, he wondered amusedly if a lot of places were unplotted...If they were, then their maps must certainly be pretty empty...

It was quite the paradox.

"So, how do you like Hogwarts so far?"

The shinobi shrugged. "It has been…interesting."

"Er." Charlie chuckled awkwardly through the exceedingly one-sided conversation. "But what about the culture and the people you've met so far?"

"Very loud. Very chatty."

Charlie cringed.

If there was one phrase shared between Flitwick and Shacklebolt, it would have been 'complete shutdown'.

But Kakashi finally offered leeway when he rubbed the back of his head, visible eye creasing in a smile. "But the people are…friendly, I suppose."

* * *

Kakashi sighed inwardly, striding along with even footing. _A tea party_. Lesson learned; it was his own fault for being nice. A bit ahead of him were Flitwick and the ginger-haired Weasley who insisted upon tea and sausages. Trailing behind him was Shacklebolt.

And then there was Umbridge.

"Mr. Hatake!"

"Ah-Miss." He took a stagger-step backwards when the pink-dressed woman approached. With her was a mousy assistant who had a monocle dangling off an ear and a putrid lime green tie around his neck.

"Mr. Hatake. I've been searching all over for you."

The shinobi grumbled wearily, "You do not say."

Simpering, Umbridge took no notice to his attitude and eagerly continued, "You must come with me. I shall introduce you to the many officials mingling with the crowd."

"I-ah-I am on-erd that you give me your time." Kakashi held his ground, even as Umbridge entered his personal space. "But I busy."

"Busy-?"

"Yes, busy with tea par-tee." He gestured at Weasley and 'grinned' sheepishly at the Ministry worker.

"But surely you can make time for this."

"Busy, Miss Um-Um…Um-ber-_ridger_."

'Um-ber-ridger' coloured and corrected him. "Umbridge. It's Umbridge."

Charlie frowned. "Mr. Hatake, your-"

"Ah-Sorry Miss." Kakashi sent a chilling stare at the dragon keeper but Charlie was not cowed until Flitwick stepped on his foot with warning. "Still learn-ing."

"That's fine. Your apology is graciously accepted." She rested her hands in front of her, leaning ever-so-close. "However, I'd be happier if you gave me the opportunity to accompany you."

"Busy."

Umbridge traded looks with an obliquely blank-faced Kingsley and spoke, "Well then, if you insist, I can escort you later. Come, Pavel."

The mousy assistant nodded distractedly as he kept pace with the rapidly departing pink figure. Flitwick eased off of Charlie's foot and pinched at the ridge of his nose.

"I don't understand." Charlie stood imposingly with his wide girth, crossing his arms. "Why did you just-?"

Kakashi shrugged and was about to answer but it was surprisingly Shacklebolt, his personal guard dog, who deterred the younger man. "Do not ask questions, Mr. Weasley, that our guest has no wish to answer."

Flitwick patted the dragon keeper gently on his hand. "It's a Ministry-thing."

"A Ministry-thing?" Charlie exhaled noisily. "I guess I could understand, seeing how neurotically attached my younger brother has become over Mister Barty Crouch."

"Percy?"

Charlie cracked an easy grin as he jested, "Yes. He has posters of his boss and info cards about cauldron bottoms taped-"

"Hm." Kakashi rolled his shoulders and pocketed his hands once more. "I'm going."

"-on his ceiling." The Weasley frowned, "Going?"

"Bye." He walked away with Kingsley bringing up the rear.

"Hey wait a second-!"

Flitwick smiled apologetically, "Sorry about tea. Maybe in a few months?"

"In a few-?". Charlie scratched his nose, thinking about the timetable for the Triwizard Tournament, and nodded, "Sure."

"Give my regards to your family."

"Thanks Professor." Charlie glanced meaningfully towards the foreigner, adding, "And good luck with the Ministry-thing."

* * *

By the time dusk settled in, the trio had avoided Umbridge a grand total of four times, excluding the encounter with Charlie. They were currently milling at the vendors within the coliseum. Around them, the wizards and witches were becoming increasingly rowdy and the security appeared to have lost hope in containing the crowd.

Kakashi sighed, slouching, "Excuse me."

"Where are you going?" rumbled Kingsley.

"The 'loo'." He waved a free hand and disappeared, just as Umbridge approached the duo.

"Where is Mr. Hatake rushing off to?" The woman peered around the crowd, about to take a step in a motion to follow him.

"The Men's Room," explained the Auror easily.

Umbridge's gaze seemed to sharpen, muttering under her breath, "He's quite evasive." In a louder voice, the Ministry Official spoke, "You were supposed to watch him, Mr. Shacklebolt."

Kingsley was unwilling to defend himself.

She crossed her arms. "Very well then, I shall wait for him here."

A lengthy silence ensued with Flitwick fidgeting and Shacklebolt staring off into space while Umbridge tapped red-painted nails against her arm impatiently.

* * *

"You left her with us," came the flying accusation as Flitwick seated himself gloomily. Already the Quidditch stadium was packed as the atmosphere intensified.

Leaning into his seat, Kakashi explained himself with a short statement. "She was stalking me." When he felt Umbridge's presence, he had escaped and joined Hooch and Sinistra who were already at their upper level seats in the stadium.

"Well-yes-but-!" sputtered the Charms Professor with affront. "That doesn't mean you can leave without saying anything."

"Oh hush Filius and enjoy the game," Madam Hooch grinned, as she peered into the Quidditch pitch. "Aurora, do take a look dear."

But Professor Sinistra was out like a light, snoring softly by Kakashi's ear. The ninja informed her, "She's asleep."

Hooch's golden hawk eyes gazed sharply at the snoozing Professor. "Aurora!"

"Uh-Yes?" The night owl jolted awake, blinking balefully at the Quidditch fanatic.

"The Game, Aurora." Sighing, Madam Hooch stared Kakashi down, eyes blazing with intensity. "Keep her awake, Hatake. I have to focus on the match."

Flitwick, sullen, sighed irately. "Just let her be, Rolanda."

"It's time for the fans to show their support for the Irish team, Filius." Hooch adjusted the dials on a pair of Omnioculars, pressing them against her eyes. "If we didn't come here to cheer, why did we come at all?"

Sinistra's head lolled to the side as she dozed off once more and Kakashi did nothing about it.

* * *

And then it started and the stadium became impossibly loud. What appeared to be a giant bee greeted the crowd with vigour as he introduced the Bulgarian and Irish teams.

* * *

His ears were muffled by a spell that Flitwick had the foresight to cast when the Veela mascots danced across the field. In his very humble opinion they were quite beautiful but they seemed to lack emotional character. Even Obito agreed when his left eye started to water.

(He never considered it odd that they both saw a bit of Rin dancing to the unknown music...)

* * *

Where the Bulgarians had the Veela, the Irish countered with tiny, bearded, green men. The Leprechauns showered the stadium with fake gold, zooming around at a quick pace. The people around him were in an uproar, snatching the illusionary trinkets even as the Leprechauns exploded in colour and gleeful sound.

And through the noise, Sinistra continued to sleep.

* * *

As the game progressed, he found himself impressed by the speed of the game. Glancing at Hooch who was engrossed by the movements of the players, he idly wondered if he could take one of Hogwarts brooms for a joyride.

But then again, if it was anything like Wind Release jutsu, he might encounter a few problems. He never did have a good affinity with the Wind element…

* * *

By the end of the intense match, the Irish team had won and Madam Hooch was gleefully celebrating with the other fans, dragging Sinistra along.

Flitwick had retired early and he soon followed his example when Hooch attempted to lure him into a lime drinking game.

Not that he wasn't flattered (he watched as a drunken witch sprawled across the lap of Umbridge's assistant and kissed him throatily), but he really didn't want to drink the concoction in the cup.

It was sentient; it had blinking _pink_ eyes.

...He decided that he had enough pink for one day.

* * *

It was past midnight.

Kakashi could feel the unnatural heat seep under his thin covers, the cold touch of magic that drifted in the air, and jolted awake, kunai ready in hand. Ingrained senses could tell of a dangerous change occurring and if he focused, he could hear the frightened screaming and taste the heady anticipation. Each breath became softer as he cautiously left his bed and padded to the door of his single bedroom. There was no sound when he wrenched the door open...

...And came face to face with a pale Professor Flitwick.

Filius faltered when he saw the bladed weapon in Kakashi's hand but to his credit, he did not question as he whispered urgently, "Come. We have to leave and get you to safety."

Flitwick quickly scurried off and Kakashi followed. "What's happening?"

With his wand brandished, Flitwick turned on his heels, the dim lights casting his body in a dramatic shadow. "Dark wizards."

"Dark wizards?"

"We have no time; those without magic are in danger. Rolanda and Aurora just left to aid the Ministry against this breach in security. It's absolutely chaotic outside," rambled Flitwick as he fumbled with the tent flap and tore the silk open, revealing the grim scene.

Kakashi took it all in, from the screaming, panicking people and the blazing fires to the utter destruction as a jeering, white-masked crowd marched ever-closer towards them. Hanging above the mob were four figures contorted into impossible shapes, two of which were smaller in size. _Children_.

Flitwick quickly beckoned at the ninja as he pointed towards the alcove of dense trees away from the pandemonium. "Hurry. They're coming."

"You aren't going to stop them?"

He offered a mirthless smile. "I have my job as they have theirs. Now follow me."

And Kakashi, deciding not to be difficult, easily kept pace as they raced around the burning remains of pitched structures. Many wizards that they passed by were attempting to quell the flames, coming to various results – most unfavourable. And as he stared more deeply into the pits of fire, he could spot a few others struggling against the smoke and heat...Some crying...More than a few fleeing barefooted...

…_Agonized, tormented yells…People burned to a crisp…Flames that reached far and destroyed many…Timber collapsing and ash drifting towards bloodsoaked grounds…_

_Demonic chakra ate at their souls and engulfed the darkened skies in a crimson aureate wave. It rendered reality into a grotesque subpar shadow of its former self._

_Bibulous slitted eyes glared as the nine tails reamed through the forest, uplifting trees and his comrades into the air…_

"-Kakashi Hatake!"

The shinobi started, hands clenching tightly around his kunai. _"Now is not the time for flashbacks, Hatake."_

Flitwick, face red from yelling to catch his attention, was signaling rapidly. "Don't stop now. We have to go!"

"I…" He stalled. He wasn't usually one to have a hero's complex – he left that job to Minato-sensei and Naruto – but he couldn't, on good conscience, escape when he knew he could help them.

"We don't have-"

"-time." Kakashi murmured through the haze of smoke, and made his choice. "Let's go."

"Good."

And when Flitwick's back was turned, he fled into the shadows without his babysitter's notice, leaving a Shadow Clone behind to follow the tiny Professor to safety.

* * *

The area near the water well was quite close to the chaos. Already the raging fires were fast approaching – too fast to be stopped. In an effort to quell the flames, wizards were rushing to and fro from the well as they either used magic or physical strength to obtain the water.

Inching within proximity, Kakashi used the miasma of smoke to cloud his figure from view. And with deliberate speed, he quickly formed the seals to one of the most taxing Water Release jutsu he knew.

...A billow of wind rushed around him as he molded his chakra, clearing away some of his cover. And when he was at the second last sign of forty-two signs, he could feel the spike of angry _and_ familiar chakra behind him. Uncharacteristic wariness settled at the pit of his stomach...Especially when he identified the owner.

"_What_ are you doing standing around in a middle of a _crisis_!" screeched the woman as her heels clicked towards him. "If you can't help, hide. And if you're a Ministry worker you should be-"

Realizing that she didn't recognize him (_yet_), he ignored her and formed the last signs.

-_Boar. Bird. Water Release: Water Dragon Projectile jutsu! _

He heard yells of surprise when the water in the well churned and blasted into the sky, forming a monstrous serpentine dragon that shimmered in the heat. Stray water droplets ingrained with his chakra fell towards the hot Earth, sizzling, just as the _draco_ surged into the flames, decreasing in size with every fire it put out. Certainly, there were damages to the structures as the offensive jutsu quenched the flames but it was, in his opinion, a small price to pay.

With that accomplished, it was time to face his stalker. He sighed, pocketing his hands nonchalantly, and turned around to greet the lovely puce-shaded face of Umbridge and her associates.

The pink-wearing Official collected herself, hiding her shock.

(A _dragon_. In a _well_.)

"Wh-What is the meaning of this?!"

Kakashi's eye curved as he mocked, "Why...It means putting out fires, of course."

* * *

**TBC**

**A/N:**

Shacklebolt, Shacklebolt – what, what

Umbridge, Umbridge – what, what

Kakashi you cheeky son of a-, your cover's blown – hah.

Maybe not, maybe not – "What do you mean?"

Maybe not, maybe not – your luck might hold

Maybe 'stead of scribing song, I write – next part :)

(Tune taken from "Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence – FYI" performed by _Utada_)

~Phoenyxx


	5. 05: The Curio

**Take Five:** The Curio (Poker Game)

* * *

The pink-wearing Official collected herself, hiding her shock.

(A _dragon_. In a _well_.)

"Wh-What is the meaning of this?!"

Kakashi's eye curved as he mocked, "Why...It means putting out fires, of course."

* * *

In the background, the water dragon roared a final time before dissipating into the environment. At the foreground, Kakashi was confronted by a confused but panicking Ministry mob.

Umbridge pursed her lips together. She didn't have the patience to deal with a smart aleck. "The _dragon_, Mr. Hatake."

"What dragon?" he drawled, persistently naive. "I don't see one around here."

An office aide to the right of Umbridge raised his voice snootily. "We are referring to the dragon that appeared by your _elbow_."

Curiously, the foreigner lifted both his arms to glance at the aforementioned joints.

The Ministry worker coloured. "It's figurative! I meant the well near your person."

Shooting a dark look at her loud-mouthed associate, Umbridge stalked forwards. "We were present when you were _fiddling_ around here. What did you do? Occult summoning? How can a dragon appear in a well?"

He pocketed his hands once more and hypothesized, "Maybe the dragon usually lives in there and didn't like all the noise." His tone was bland but if one listened carefully, they can discern a hint of cheer. "You shouldn't ask me."

A whiplash of whispers followed.

"-Can't expect sound logic from a wizard of the _Eastern_ continent."

"Doesn't know anything..."

"-Clearly up to something."

Kakashi continued casually, "Though...Are you really considering the idea of me summoning dragons Miss _Umberridger_?"

"Yes." She snapped testily. "And please, it's Delores Um-_bridge_! Mr. Hatake, I expect a similar courtesy when you-" Umbridge pause.

"When I...?"

She opened her mouth as if to speak but she held her peace when it finally dawned on her. Her right index finger jabbed accusingly at him. "Your English!"

"Hm?"

"Your pronunciation is-is..." Umbridge brandished her wand with menace. "Your pronunciation is all _correct_!"

The Hatake shot her a bored look. "_You're really observant, aren't you?_"

Shacklebolt, who was shadowing the proceedings, stepped in quickly. "Madam, lower you wand! That is too hasty-"

"I am surprised by your actions, Auror. Learn your place and move out of my way!" commanded the Ministry official, every inch imposing. Kingsley bit his tongue, falling back. She accused Kakashi, "Who are you, _impostor_?!"

_...What? Really?_ With an utmost blank expression possible, Kakashi opted to _stare_ at the woman.

The rest of the Ministry crowd murmured worriedly. Shacklebolt schooled his facial muscles to relax from disbelief.

"You think that I am...a fake?" It appeared Hatake shared Shacklebolt's incredulity as he blinked – or was that a wink? "I am who I appear to be. I don't need to tell you my name when you already know it."

"Kakashi Hatake is a representative of the Eastern Magical Community who arrived in Scotland's Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry three weeks ago. He does not speak fluent English." Umbridge sniffed primly. "Do not lie your way out of this. It is a criminal offense worthy of Azkaban to impersonate a diplomat."

"Actually," started the now dubbed 'impostor'. "I've always spoke with passing English. It was only this afternoon – when I was surprised by the frog that suddenly jumped down my throat – that my English came out a bit, what you call, garbled." _Frog indeed_. He smiled, visible eye curving. "I don't appreciate the accusations, Miss."

There was a hurried tug on her sleeve as a young female witch implored, "Madam, please reconsider your words. If your claims do not hold against him, there will be trouble from our Minister _and_ the Eastern society."

"I know that, _girl_." Umbridge gritted her teeth in annoyance before the expression faded away into a sweet smile. She addressed Hatake. "I'm afraid that I must follow protocol and ask for a proof of identity."

Kakashi asked, "...There is no other way?"

Umbridge grinned, all teeth. "No."

"Well..."

"Well?"

"Well. My 'proof of identity' is in another cloak pocket; maybe I'll recite a few facts instead?" He grinned sheepishly and didn't wait for her approval. "My last name is Hatake and my first name is Kakashi. Born on September fifteenth, I'm almost twenty-eight years old. My blood type is O though I sometimes wish it was AB. I'm currently about five-feet-nine-inches and weighing in at one hundred forty-eight and eight hundred twelve thousandths pounds _not_ one hundred forty-nine pounds as it says on my records-"

Umbridge seemed ready to interrupt the inane chattering but he rambled on.

"-I'm ambidextrous and I tend to brush my teeth from the right side to the left – except Mondays. That said, I like to comb my hair from the left side to the right except on Fridays and Saturdays where I don't comb my hair at all; this is because of my longstanding bet with a colleague concerning bed-hair. Hrm...What else...?

"Hem-"

"Ah! Sweets make my teeth ache. Salty foods cause too much salivation in my mouth. I'm also fond of the colours blue and black – even if black isn't truly a colour – and I, nm..."

A younger woman to the left of Umbridge encouraged, "Speak up, Mr. Hatake."

Umbridge gave her a withering look.

Kakashi rubbed the back of his head in awkwardness. "...I...I _really_ like porn." The end of that statement was punctuated by a schoolgirl blush.

_Porn_. The pink-wearing official opened and closed her mouth several times; how she wished to rebuke him but couldn't due to his ambiguous position in power. (What if he wasn't an impostor but was truly the diplomat?)

She cleared her throat. "Hem hem. Very well, I think we've heard enough." Behind her, various heads nodded in plain agreement. "Please excuse my impertinence, Mr. Hatake."

"No harm done." Kakashi added charmingly, "I'll be sure to mention to your Minister of Magic of just how _welcoming_ you are."

Umbridge's nose flared but she did not fall for his bait. She haughtily called forth two Aurors at the back of the crowd. "MacKey. Hartley. Please escort Mr. Hatake to safety while we continue to address the incendiary issue."

Two men, one scrawny and the other tall with a wide girth, stepped towards the 'diplomat' with purpose. Kakashi eyeballed them and remarked, "I don't think there is a safe place with you two around. I'll do better alone, thanks."

"As much as I would like to oblige to your wishes that will not be possible." Umbridge sneered, beckoning at the hesitating Aurors; the other Ministry workers shuffled. "Please follow them. I will speak with you later."

Hatake sighed almost despondently and turned away, his back facing the group. "Alright then, I will-"

A bone-tingling shriek reverberated through the air, interrupting the man.

"Oh my goodness, what is that noise?!"

"Could it be...?"

"It sounded like a monster!"

Umbridge was alarmed. "What was that? Aurors, report!"

Kingsley calmly interjected, "It appears to be a cry of a dragon."

"Agreed, Kingsley. The sound and quality...It might be the astounding _draco_ of _aqua _again," remarked 'scrawny' Auror Hartley.

"_Draco_ of _aqua _or not, find the source immediately!"

"Ah...But Miss, I thought you had a fire to moni-" Kakashi suddenly fell silent. As he was turning back to face them, his posture had stiffened noticeably and the diplomat quickly pointed to the horizon behind the mob. "Look over there."

A Ministry worker frowned and asked, "What is it?"

"Well." Kakashi's serious demeanour shifted to delight. "...It's another water dragon!"

The mass of people spun around as one, tilting their heads upwards to see the mysterious 'water dragon'...

...Instead, all they bore witness to was a silver light teasing the tree tops.

"Oh my...?"

"What might that be?"

"They're shining lights. The sun rising, perhaps?"

"The sun rising from the _west_, me'dearie?"

"Hum, regardless, the lights are lovely."

"But _not_ dragon in nature."

"Hem-"

"Ain't dragon – eh, more like 'em muggles call'd _aurors bore-elle_."

"'_Aurors bore-elle_'? Tim, you drunk again?"

"Hem hem."

"I may of 'ad acoupla sips there 'nd here 'nd eh-_very_-where."

"'_Aurors bore-elle_' sounds like English-French gone wrong."

A very loud snort followed the statement. "'_Ours bores-el_'? Wh'ch dimwit suggest'd tha' sh – hic – it?"

"Hem hem!"

"...You did Tim."

"I did? Did I? Oi, somebody sob'r me up, haaa – hic!"

"_Enough_!" Umbridge clapped her hands loudly. "Speculation like this won't bring us any closer to the answer."

A Ministry underling chirruped eagerly, "I agree ma'am. We have more serious matters to address."

The tall, over-muscled Auror by the name of MacKey interrupted lightly, deep bass voice rumbling, "Yea, matters like figurin' out where our ambassador went."

"Ambassador?" queried the perky assistant.

"Mister Hatake's gone."

And when the message sank in, everyone, once again, went into an uproar. They frantically looked back to where Kakashi was just standing and saw no one.

"Gone?!" Umbridge rounded on MacKey, flushing. "Where did he _go_? Do not forget that getting into excellent terms with the dratted magical Asian Community is our highest priority. As I am overseeing this project, MacKey, you better be ready to take the fall if so much as a single hair disappears off of Hatake's head! Understand?!"

MacKey wilted in the face of the shorter, pink-wearing woman, not daring to wipe the spittle off his cheek.

* * *

And as everyone panicked...

Kingsley Shacklebolt remained unmoved when the rest of his comrades threw up their arms in slack-jaw surprise.

Bewildered statements like "Where did he go?" and "The lights! The lights must've taken him captive!" were repeated loudly across the field of smoking tents.

Gazing at the fading silver illumination touched along the treetops, he pondered upon the merits of using an intricate illusionary spell in such a way. But he knew he would've been a terrible bodyguard if he didn't help Hatake out of his predicament; it was clear he had no desire to be around Umbridge any longer.

Besides, he owed Dumbledore this favour and it wouldn't be classy to watch the poor man grab at straws to evade Umbridge. He didn't want to witness the relations between the Eastern and British magical society crumble because of this altercation.

Though privately he wondered – what would have happened if he hadn't stepped in? Would Hatake have genuinely summoned a dragon as a distraction?

(The real inquiry was, could he really summon one or did Umbridge accuse him without base?)

There seemed to be many questions and mysteries surrounding the fellow. For instance another aspect of curiosity was the 'masks' he frequently exchanged around.

In terms of a metaphorical recount, one could feel like they were playing a simple game of Go Merfish with Hatake – no disguises and pure genuine conversation, albeit one-sided.

(One card for me. One card for me – I mean, you.)

In another quick turn of a Galleon, the stakes could be exceedingly precarious and interacting with Hatake would be like exchanging the game of Go Merfish for Dragon Poker. And Kingsley, he knew Dragon Poker well in terms of its associations with _illegal_ activities. As a derivative of the stone-faced Centaur Poker, the game is considered as a dangerous alternative with _consequence_ – fingers charred when the individual suffers a loss. To avoid second-degree burns, players of Dragon Poker must maintain multiple facades to throw off their opponents.

Much like what Hatake does.

Kingsley considered. Judging by the many poker faces, Hatake would probably be an excellent poker player. He wondered if he would fancy a game.

...He decided that he will ask in their next encounter.

* * *

A girlish voice interrupted his musings. "Hem, hem. Mr. Shacklebolt, you seem pleased."

"Madam Umbridge."

Faced against the upper Ministry official head-on, he could tell that she was not at all conflicted or worried as she appeared to be. She suggested candidly, "Perhaps you know where our charge is."

He remained indifferent. "I did not watch him-"

"But as an elite Auror for the Ministry of Magic, I would expect someone of your calibre to have a general idea unlike Mr. MacKey." Umbridge smiled primly. "You and I both know that it is certainly not proper to allow a diplomat run amuck unaccompanied."

He was not fooled by her. "I – as was everyone else – was surprised by the appearance of the second dragon and had a brief lapse of attention on Mr. Hatake. I simply didn't have time to observe his actions."

Umbridge appeared disappointed and sighed dramatically, "Shielding him? I expected as much. Your wand please."

Shacklebolt stared at her grimly. "You are loose with your suggestions tonight, Madam. I assure you that I didn't participate in whatever Mr. Hatake was planning." Umbridge seemed ready to verbally lash him but he continued, "However, if you so wish to sanction my intentions, my wand is ready for your inspection."

Without hesitation, Shacklebolt presented his wand and Umbridge took the opportunity to cast _Prior Incantato _– a charm that determined the previous spell casted from the wand. Sprouting from the end of Kingsley's wand were sparks of crimson red, a recognizable sign of the _Stupefy_ spell.

Delores Umbridge remained unconvinced. "I see. So the wand isn't the culprit."

"Madam." He cut her off calmly as he pocketed his wand. "I believe the procession is waiting for your instruction. They are growing curious by the delay."

Umbridge nodded stiffly and turned away, ordering the rest of his fellow wizards efficiently. "We shall head to the Western field to regroup with the Minister."

And as the pink-wearing woman sauntered off, Kingsley inwardly heaved a sigh of relief. He was exceedingly glad that he had a better than average proficiency in wandless magic. Unquestionably, that skill just saved him from future troubles.

* * *

'Born' just a few moments ago, he was an extension of the real Hatake's ego. And right now, Hatake's ego was exasperated by the easily thwarted 'precautions' that Flitwick was so inclined to take. He sighed softly as he trailed deeper into the forest, following the hasty steps of the professor. They stopped at the center of the small forest and Flitwick sat down on the tree stump, trying to catch his breath.

Between breaths, he spoke, "This is an excellent place to disappear to. They won't find us here."

The clone circled the area all the while muttering, "...Didn't expect your lack of instincts."

"What was that?"

'Kakashi' regarded the smaller professor before pointing out simply, "This area of the forest is not shielded enough. The cover is too sparse."

"Oh, is that all?" Flitwick chuckled brightly. "That can be fixed, Mr. Hatake."

"With magic?"

The question was sarcastically rhetorical but it appeared Flitwick took no heed and explained, "Yes. A series of charm and transfiguration work. Here, watch."

From a hidden pocket, Flitwick withdrew his wand and waved the magical conduit accompanied by a nonverbal command. Almost instantly bushes enlarged and the branches swept lower, preventing any curious eyes from watching them.

The clone pondered and remarked, "An _Engorgio_ spell and a transfiguration spell to change the position of the branches..."

Flitwick did a minor double-take. "You are quite knowledgeable for a squib."

"I may be a squib but that doesn't prevent me from studying magical theory."

"Tenacity. It is quite admirable, Mr. Hatake, that you have interest in an art that you are unfortunately unable to apply. It's known that squibs tend to reintegrate into muggle society after all..."

"I'll take those words about my stubbornness as a compliment, professor."

"But it is curious," Filius quirked a smile. "Why study it?"

"Because."

Flitwick waited. The clone stared steadily ahead and the professor quipped, "...You didn't answer my question."

"I know."

Flitwick chortled, "Mr. Hatake, you are a very frustrating character."

"Thank you. I try." The clone's tongue was looser than usual as he retorted glibly, "If you really want to know, I merely have an acquired interest in magic. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Which is why you always disappear into the school's library late at night?" Flitwick grinned, knowing that he managed to surprise the man with his attentive nature. "The walls have eyes and ears, Mr. Hatake, and from what I have been led to believe, you don't really make it your business to be secretive when you traverse to the library."

Hatake smirked confidently behind his mask. "There isn't a need to; I was given permission."

"Peace. I don't doubt your innocence." Filius then questioned carefully, "Don't mind my asking but what has interested you so that you would forgo sleep?"

The clone contemplated on the best way to handle the situation and went for a half-lie. "I like to read about charms and hexes."

"Charms work!" Excited, Flitwick sat up quickly. "Why Mr. Hatake, you should have approached me sooner!"

His modulations were calm. "...Approach you? About what?"

"I thought you knew...I'm Hogwarts' Charms Professor," boasted Flitwick, eager to please.

"I know that."

"Then..." Flitwick suggested, not in the least discouraged by his dismissal, "Well if you have any questions or maybe you need insight on a matter, I'll be more than happy to discuss charms theory with you."

"I see..." The clone scratched his head, wondering how he could use this to his benefit. "I'll keep your offer in mind, professor."

"Excellent!" Flitwick hopped onto his feet and asked, "Now what level are you at-?"

A loud yell carried over to their position. "Hey! Is anyone there?"

'Kakashi' and Filius stilled. The clone read the faint energy patterns approaching them and relaxed; in contrast, the professor listened carefully to every rustle and snap of twig, wand ready.

"Hello?" The boyish voice echoed through the foliage and soon, they could see light filtering through the leaves. "It's all clear now."

The clone could pick up on the heavy breathing and the metallic scent of human blood.

Flitwick commandeered leadership. "Who goes there?"

A head of fiery red peeked through the branches revealing, "...Weasley. Bill Weasley."

* * *

They moved through the forest speedily as a single unit.

"-Combing for stragglers in the forest to tell them that the danger has passed?"

"Yea."

Flitwick asked, "What about the muggle family?"

"Distraught but the mediwizards are treating them." Bill clutched at the cut on his forearm. "Too bad the dark wizards disapparated before we could apprehend them."

Once again, clone Kakashi found himself trailing after the short professor but this time there was also a tall gangly red head to follow. The long-haired Weasley, undoubtedly related to Charlie, was leading them back to the main campsites.

"So Mr. Hatake."

The clone grunted. "Yes?"

Kakashi could hear the mirth from the man dressed in the chic rock concert clothes. "Hope this event doesn't reflect terribly on your perception of English wizards."

He paused, feeling a set of eyes tracking their movement above in the trees. Smug and game for a little fun, the doppelganger drawled, "Not really. In a batch of apples, a portion will be subjectively good; the other portion will have a few mediocre apples with the rest as dumb."

There was a spike of chakra before it quickly dissipated. _Switch_.

Flitwick repeated, "Dumb apples?"

He nodded absolutely certain. "Dumb apples."

"That's crazy." Bill chortled, "I've never heard of dark wizards being compared to as dumb apples."

The clone murmured seriously, "I've met many dumb apples in my lifetime."

The red-head was alarmed. "You mean dark wizards?"

"No." The clone repeated patiently, "Dumb apples." _No. Enemy shinobi._

Bill finally looked back and smirked, the skull earring echoing the expression, "Apples that are dumb? Charlie was right; you're definitely quite odd – no offense meant."

"None taken. There are worse names that can be added to my name." A pebble was hurtled full speed into the ground where the clone previously stepped on. Back tingling by the intent, 'Kakashi' waved a free hand discreetly over his shoulder and changed the subject, "How close is the campsite?"

Bill pointed ahead. "Should be near."

Flitwick interjected thoughtfully, "I never expected a midnight stroll in my agenda for the night..."

The clone quipped, "It's nice."

"Whether or not you're aware, Mr. Hatake, but we've been walking for nearly the entire day." Flitwick wiped a brow. "I'd much rather be in my bed right now than scampering through the forest."

Bill made a small noise, clutching his injured arm tighter. "I wholeheartedly agree with you Professor Flitwick."

The charms specialist took notice to the pale complexion and waved at the sluggishly bleeding cut. "Have you gotten that checked over by a mediwizard yet?"

Adamant in manner, he scoffed lightly, "This thing is just a scratch. Nothing to worry about."

Eye curving, the doppelganger suggested, "It's not cursed is it?"

"No." Bill announced almost proudly, "I'm a Curse Breaker for Gringotts, Mr. Hatake. I can tell when I'm in danger of a curse or hex."

"Hm." The clone was about to retort but stalled when he felt a nerve underneath his right eyebrow involuntarily twitch. Now, Kakashi was generally not an overtly superstitious person but gut feelings told him trouble was afoot.

This was justified by Flitwick's gasp of surprise. Above them a shot of vivid light was imprinted onto the sky and tendrils of emerald green formed a pattern, revealing a skull with a twisting snake-like tongue.

"...The mark of the Dark Lord."

* * *

Having escaped the forest and now passing through the populated western field, Bill was unsurprised when they crossed paths with Ministry workers. He waved politely. "Good evening."

However, no one took heed to his greeting. Most were busy staring at the diplomat from Asia. Bill was suddenly reminded of Charlie's description of Hatake, 'a strange and non-talkative extrovert who has a backwards Percy-like Ministry-thing'.

The male Ministry worker that approached closer than the rest appeared flustered. "Mi-Mister Hatake sir! You...You..."

_Definitely_ backwards Percy-like Ministry-thing.

"Hem hem."

The Kakashi-clone repressed his annoyance and greeted heartily, "Miss Umberridger."

"What are you doing here with Professor Flitwick and another..._Weasley_?" Umbridge then murmured in a quiet undertone, words spoken so softly that even the clone had to concentrate to eavesdrop, "There really is a whole burrow of you lot..."

The red-head took a step forward. "My name is Bill Weasley, Madam."

"And what happened was that Mr. Hatake and I took cover in the forest during the attack and left when the all clear signal was given by Mr. Weasley. Just as we were about to exit the forest, we spotted the dark mark and decided to move to the western field," supplied Flitwick.

Muttered with disdain, a Ministry official rebutted, "Impossible."

"Hm?" 'Kakashi' mocked, pointing skyward, "Im-poss-able? Dark mark is over there and we all-ready at west field."

"No, not that." Auror Hartley's shrewd gaze didn't intimidate Bill or Flitwick and certainly didn't faze the doppelganger. "We saw Mr. Hatake earlier and his English..."

The Kakashi-clone inwardly cursed, realizing that his real self might have had his identity compromised. _"To be so _careless_...Now how to deal with this...?"_

But Flitwick came to his rescue. "You must have seen him with me. Rest assured that he was under my protection during the dark wizard fiasco."

"Curious." Umbridge leered, "There is no need to establish an alibi, Mr. Hatake. You aren't in trouble."

"Eh? But I was with sir during terror-eye-zing." The diplomat shrugged, "Maybe heat caused mee-ra-gee and you see me."

"But-"

"That's enough, Hartley." Umbridge then smiled sweetly at the black-haired foreigner. "But I must ask, is your lowered proficiency in English due to another 'frog attack'?"

The Kakashi-clone suggested, "Are you say I lie-ing?"

"No, not at all." Umbridge tried again. "But I hope you don't feel like you need to hide from us, the British Ministry, by using subpar English."

"Okay." The clone sighed, "You do not bell-eve me. I am no lie-ing."

"Who doesn't believe who, now?"

Located behind the group, a new voice joined the conversation and the sea of Ministry workers parted almost immediately when they realized who it was.

'Kakashi' brightened upon seeing the stouter man. "You must be Minister Corn-elle-us F'dudge!" The doppelganger grinned mischievously, "My name is Kakashi Hatake, Asian dip-o-mat. Miss Umberridger ack-cuse that I lie."

Minister Fudge appeared taken aback. Umbridge paled.

* * *

Due to the Ministry fiasco, their group only attained three hours of sleep before rousing. In the late morning light, the nightmarish scene seemed distant in memory but the charred remains of tents were stark, jarring reminders of what came to pass at the end of the Quidditch World Cup.

Kakashi was standing outside their Prussian blue tent, waiting on the other professors. Kingsley came to stand beside him.

"Good morning, Mr. Shacklebolt."

"Morning." The taller, stockier man observed, "With the Ministry increasing security, it appears I'm accompanying you to Hogwarts."

"How nice of Minister Fudge." Hatake tugged at his white scarf, back in his wizard gear. "I'll take his gesture as one of goodwill."

Shacklebolt nodded. They stood in companionable silence until the Auror questioned, "Last night. How did you manage?"

"Manage what?"

"The distraction at the well."

Kakashi considered over the situation. Kingsley must be referring to the 'dragon sound' that spooked the Ministry workers. In actuality, the 'dragon sound' was a complex sound-based jutsu that combined rudimentary physics – fluctuating amplitude, increasing wavelength, and lowering the frequency of the sound waves. Perhaps he did owe his guard dog an answer since he unpredictably used magic to help him with the distraction (the pseudo mark of a dragon shimmering in the sky)...

But that would be too much trouble. He lied, "I wasn't at the well last night, Mr. Shacklebolt. Did the mirage fool you too?"

"I see." The Auror gave him a stiff look, facing the fact that he wasn't about to receive a straight answer anytime soon. "Very well then."

"Hrn."

"Oh, and Mr. Hatake?"

Kakashi asked patiently, "What is it?"

"I look forward to a game of poker with you."

"Poker hm?" The shinobi pocketed his hands and moved away from the tent; not a moment sooner, the three professors exited.

Madam Hooch glanced at the wreckage and focused on the petite man beside her. "Filius, where are we heading to now?"

"We're using a portkey to reach the Leaky Cauldron in London. There should be transport ready to take us to King's Cross train station."

"...Not a portkey directly to Hogsmede?"

"No, Mr. Hatake. We initially planned a surprise sightseeing around magical London but in light of last night's incident, we thought it best to postpone the tour and return to Hogwarts," explained Flitwick.

Sinistra fixed her hair, motions lacking energy. "Thank goodness. I need my sleep."

* * *

By the time they boarded the Hogwarts Express, it was nearing mid-afternoon. The professors took an empty compartment at one side of the train while Kakashi slipped into another. Shacklebolt, much to the consternation of the shinobi, tailed him and bunkered down in the booth next to his.

Taking time to stare out the window at the blurred scenery, he eventually took out the wizard's chess Dumbledore let him borrow to pass the time...

* * *

_(One week left...)_

With one more week until the students arrive, Hogwarts was in a flurry of activity. From what he could tell, most professors were double-checking their tried and successful lesson plans. For the Head of Houses, both McGonagall and Flitwick were immersed in texts while Sprout spent more time than not within her greenhouses. Snape on the other hand was usually not in the castle so Kakashi didn't have many interactions with the man.

It was probably for the best.

Those whose occupation didn't involve teaching students were seen pacing their work area in agitation. Madam Pomfrey was quite prone to spontaneously smooth over nonexistent wrinkles from the cot blankets and recheck her medical cabinets. At the library Madam Pince managed to reorganize and shelve her books on dangerous herbology – thrice. Filch and his cat Mrs. Norris guarded the hallways of Hogwarts with tenacity, ensuring that nothing was out of place.

For Kakashi, the last week until the students arrived was relatively normal. Much to the resentment of his beleaguered colleagues, he spent most of his time outside reading, basking in the last summer rays. Often, they would be language manuals. Because of the Triwizard Tournament, he was forced to learn simple Bulgarian and French words such as '_zdravei_', '_bonjour_', '_zbogom_', and '_au revoir_'.

It was certainly a shame when that normalcy was sent careening out the window by...

* * *

Tsunade, stroking Awaji with an absent hand, laughed with a shout. "_Ha_! Damn Hatake-brat. He's already outdone my expectations."

There was a gentle knock at the door and Shizune stuck her head through the entrance, inquiring, "Tsunada-sama...Is everything alright?"

"Of course." The Lady Hokage leaned into her chair, still smirking. "Why wouldn't everything be alright, Shizune?"

"Ah...There was laughter at odd intervals." The medic-in-training then scrutinized her superior, trying to see if anything was out of place.

"At ease." The curvaceous blonde waved a free hand. "I was reading a mission report."

Suspicious, Shizune repeated, "A mission report?"

"Yes. In fact, I think it's about time I sent something back," remarked the Godaime as she placed a fresh sheaf of paper on the desk with a brush in hand poised to write. "Shizune, go to the aviary and fetch some food for our feathered friend."

The hawk by Tsunade's hand cooed and the younger woman nodded obediently, leaving the room in haste.

Turning her attention back to the blank piece of paper, the Hokage of the Village Hidden in the Leaves grinned wickedly. _"Let's see how well he'll handle this C-ranked mission..."_

* * *

_(Two nights prior to the welcome feast)_

"...Annoying hen. You know, you're sitting on _my_ pillow." Pakkun was resting on his haunches by the bed, glaring at the 'nuisance'.

Blinking unabashedly, Awaji stared down her beak at Pakkun while perched upon her new throne – _Kakashi's_ pillow to be exact.

"Don't get all high and mighty on me."

Awaji bobbed her head and flapped her wings impressively, taunting the pug.

Growling, Pakkun used teeth to grab the cushion by the fireplace and tossed it at the bird. The hawk immediately took to the air to avoid the flying projectile, cawing shrilly.

"Success." The pug hopped back onto his territory, eyeing the affronted bird. "Yea. So what are you going to do about it?"

If Awaji could truly speak, she would have said something along the lines of 'revenge'.

* * *

"Did I miss the battle?"

Coughing up a stray pillow feather, Pakkun growled by the doorway, "No."

Kakashi casually strolled into his room while juggling an armful of books which were promptly deposited onto the desk. Visibly unimpressed, he pointed out monotone, "You had a pillow fight with my messenger bird."

The hawk, which had relocated onto the top of the dresser, fluffed her feathers with affront, cooing angrily.

Pakkun was gruff. "Her fault." The pug jumped onto the bed, scattering feathers.

Batting away the fluff, Kakashi raised an arm towards the hawk and the bird obediently flew to him. "Looks like Awaji returned from Konoha with a scroll."

Observing Awaji with biased eyes, Pakkun huffed and ignored the avian. "The Lady Hokage? What's it say?"

Diligent fingers removed the missive and unrolled the paper. Kakashi examined the message, expression unreadable.

"Is it bad?"

"Not really." But Kakashi was clearly annoyed.

Pakkun perked up. "What did you get?"

"A mission. C-rank."

"Huh, a C-ranked mission should be easy then."

Kakashi tossed the scroll onto the bed without watching where it landed. "Read."

And so Pakkun nosed the scroll and flipped it over. Listening to his master's command, he read about two lines before barking out loud, unable to contain his laughter.

"Oh this is going to be _good_."

* * *

_(Students arriving; professors waiting)_

"Yo."

Dumbledore nodded. Some of the professors, like Snape and Bathsheda Babbling, ignored him stoutly. More welcoming was Flitwick who waved from his end of the table before continuing his conversation with Professor Sprout. Madam Pomfrey, Pince, and Hooch were likewise occupied.

"Mr. Hatake, how nice of you to join us for the welcome feast." Professor Vector took a careful sip from her goblet and added, "Not staying in your room tonight?"

Kakashi, in an amber-hued scarf tonight, seated himself between Professors Vector and Sinistra. "I couldn't possibly decline the Headmaster's invitation."

"I see." Vector continued to drink, their conversation short-lived.

Nonchalant to the snub, the foreigner fished out a thick book from his pocket titled '_A Guide to Medieval Sorcery_' and thumbed to the desired page. His nose safely buried deep behind the bindings, he took time to glance discreetly at the four empty tables situated below their dais, noticing the vibrant colour schemes that matched the Hogwarts' coat of arms. Interesting and a tad out of place was the chair and raggedy old wizard's hat placed in front of Professor Dumbledore's podium.

After a drawn out silence, it was Sinistra who murmured, "Hm. The stars are hidden behind a curtain tonight." With a faraway look in her eyes, the Astronomy professor was staring at the enchanted ceiling fixedly. "A lightning storm is lingering in the clouds."

Thunder rolled deep like the sound of a rain drum. The shinobi seemed pleased by nature's articulation and glanced at the illusion of the sky briefly.

Vector commented, "With the bad weather, crossing the Great Lake will be turbulent for the First Years."

The two professors weren't certain, but they could feel a change in Hatake's unassuming presence. Indeed Kakashi, a hint of drollness in his thoughts, was in fact agreeing with Vector's statement.

Sinistra rested a hand on the table, thrumming a soft tune. "Turbulent, yes, but their experience will be much darker and enchanting."

"I'd rather refer to it as dreary and wet," rebuked Vector who couldn't appreciate Aurora's romanticism. "At least the returning students would be relatively dry. In such a stuffy room, the potent smell of wet clothes will be sickening."

"You should've sat beside Poppy." Sinistra murmured, "A bit late of a suggestion though. The students should be trickling through those doors soon..."

...A non-rhythmically pounding, a dissonance to the timed thunder and Sinistra's table beat, resounded through the walls. He could perceive the chatter drifting softly into his ear, identifying mixed emotions wrought forth by the 'home-coming' behind their words. The uncontrolled blend of chakra and magic pulsed...

Kakashi flipped a page and asserted, "I can hear them."

No sooner did those words leave his lips did the doors to the Great Hall creak open.

* * *

**TBC**

**Before there are misunderstandings!** _ToushirouLover_ pointed out in her review (thank you :D) that there is a fanart picture of a 'Hogwarts Kakashi'. That picture was done by _charredfeathers_ (who is very lovely and awesome), **not** me. If you want to check it out, I have a link up on my profile page.

**A/N: **If you recognized 'dumb apples' or 'dumbapples', good job (I'm in another FF7 binge and yah. Like really? Dumbapples?). And if I got the Bulgarian wrong, please tell me.

Below is an excerpt of a scene from the next chapter. The fun definitely starts...

* * *

**Tidbit:**

"Bloody hell! Is that our next Defence Against the Dark Arts professor?"

The group of Gryffindor students observed the man with the midnight-dark hair who wore an amber-coloured scarf that covered half his face.

"He looks almost..." Ginny paused as she fished for words. "...Normal."

... ... ...

"The new professor looks exotic," muttered Pansy Parkinson, nose wrinkled.

A male Slytherin student a few seats down hollered, "Like an exotic _fruit_!"

* * *

**A/N cont.**: That's right. Hello students, can you feel that on-coming headache yet :)?

(Oh Kakashi, our _precious_ exotic fruit. He's such a pineapple.)

~Phoenyxx


	6. 06: Dessert on a Platter

**Take Six:** Dessert on a Platter (with Whip Cream!)

* * *

_(Two hours prior to the feast...)_

Gazing at the circle of ninken, Pakkun started, "Here's the plan-"

Shiba whined impatiently, slicking the crest upon his head with a paw, "No, no, no, there's gonna be no plans. He's only gonna bring one of us anyway."

"Hey! It's the first time he's going to see the kids! All the teachers are gathered too! I want to go to the feast!" Guruko's tail thumped with each exclamation point, whiskers twitching in anticipation. "I want to go! I want to go!"

"No. You excite too easily," drawled Bisuke. "I should be the one to go."

"Hehehe. But you're _boring _so I should go 'cause I'll give the best colour commentary," remarked Urushi as he puffed up his white fur proudly.

"Yeah, but I'm hungry. I want to go for the food," muttered Uhei.

"We're all hungry," retorted Akino, light-sensitive eyes behind black glasses.

Bull, the giant black bulldog, was silent. He eyed his peers tiredly before leaning closer towards the fireplace and rested his head between his paws.

Pakkun muttered, "Fine, since we all want to go and you bunch don't want to listen to my master plan, let's have a deciding factor."

Guruko then exclaimed, "A contest! Let's have a contest!"

"What kinda contest?" snorted Shiba. "Better be a good kinda contest!"

"A silent contest," suggested Pakkun, grin turning feral. "Whoever can shut up for the longest period of time wins."

"Shut up? Yea, yea, I can shut up! That's easy – you know, shutting up!" shouted Guruko eagerly.

Bisuke gazed at Guruko with impatience, and muttered, "We all know who's going to drop out of the contest first, don't we?"

The whiskered dog squinted at Bisuke and asked, "Who? Who's dropping out on what?!"

"Nevermind him Guruko," consoled Uhei.

Akino piped up, "Let's get the contest started already."

"Yeah." Pakkun counted, "Three...Two...One!"

A blanket of peace settled around the eight dogs...

* * *

Wiping away the condensation from the mirror, Kakashi was listening in on his nindogs' conversation.

He was not surprised when the silence was broken by loud-

* * *

-singing.

"-a mission, a mission, bang-bang a mission! Silent like on a mission, bang-bang, a mission!" chanted Guruko. To each 'mission' his tail thwacked against the floor in a steady tempo.

Guruko's tongue lolled as he noticed his companions' smug expressions. "What?"

It was a domino effect. Because of Guruko's cluelessness, Urushi snickered uncontrollably, legs kicking out. He managed to boot Uhei who yelped out loudly.

"Hey!" Uhei puffed up. "I call foul."

Urushi giggled through a half-hearted apology. "S-S-Sorry!" He rolled into Akino.

Akino's glasses glinted. "Urushi..."

Noticing the danger, Bisuke leapt out of the way just as Akino and Uhei both pounced on top of Urushi. Bisuke, perched on the bed, called out, "Hey now. Hey stop that."

"Oh! Oh! Are we play-fighting?" Guruko circled the nipping, tumbling dog pile. "I want in!"

Shiba attempted to shy away but his leg got caught in the tussle. Someone bit down on said appendage. "Oi! Oi, oi! Leggo! Ya got the wrong dog."

"Stop." Voice of reason, Bisuke drawled, "Pakkun...Do something."

Pakkun barred his teeth in a self-satisfied smile but otherwise didn't say a word.

"Tch. Figures," growled Shiba as he kicked outwards. "Oi! OI! Cut it out you four!"

Bisuke grumbled, "Pakkun's _winning_."

"What?!" Urushi hiccupped. "Little pug's winning?"

Uhei's ruffled head came up from under the dog pile. "Get off. You lot are heavy."

"Who's left?" asked Akino as he extricated himself.

"Pakkun and Bull," said Bisuke.

Shiba chortled, "Ha ha ha! Bull's gonna win!"

Pakkun twitched, his ire evident on his face but instead of acting on his anger, he sat in front of Bull.

They had a stare down.

"Ooo, tension!" cooed Guruko.

"Behave." Urushi tugged Guruko away. "I wanna watch."

"That was my front row seat! Mine! Mine!" whined Guruko.

"Urushi..." sighed Uhei.

"Yea, yea, yea. I get it. Puppy's gonna cry." Urushi nipped at Guruko's ear fondly.

Guruko shook his head, "I'm not a puppy! No way!"

Meanwhile for Pakkun the scope of his world narrowed down to defeating Bull. He glared at the larger dog, determined to win. _"Submit. Submit. _Submit_."_

His resolve was so incredibly flagrant that Bull was starting to get nervous.

The six other dogs watched with baited breath. Pakkun smirked and Bull was the first to break.

It started with a low rumble at the back of his throat, the sound like impending stones cascading down a mountain peak. The noise built until Bull released his thunderous bark, causing Pakkun to tumble backwards.

This drew Kakashi's attention because Bull hardly ever snarled, let alone one so plaintive. He hadn't heard that tremor since Bull was a pup.

(It was almost a, "Kakashi! Pakkun's picking on me.")

Ruffling his wet hair, Kakashi, their de facto leader, stuck his head out through the bathroom door. The dogs immediately noticed him and sweated. Bull barked again. Pakkun hissed a low "traitor".

Pondering over their antics, Kakashi rolled both eyes when he realized. The shinobi remarked, deadpanned, "No. I'm not taking any one of you to the feast."

_Damn._

And when the door to the bathroom sidled close, Guruko whimpered, "Now what?"

"Dunno," muttered Urushi.

Akino and Uhei stared at Pakkun, both knowing well that the pug still had an ace up his sleeves.

Pakkun did not disappoint. He coughed self-importantly, a smirk still visible.

"So here's the plan..."

* * *

Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, a pearl whisper against the intricately detailed tapestries, glided through the air. Hovering with him was the moody ghost of Helena Ravenclaw.

He nervously fixed the frilled collar around his almost-severed neck and asked his companion, "I say my dear lady we're not late for the feast, are we?"

"...No." The Grey Lady, beauty forever preserved as an opalescent wisp, combed back her flowing locks as they neared the entrance to the Great Hall. "But the _outsider_ is present."

And as she brushed a willowy hand at the imposing wooden door, there was the slightest prickling that numbed the pads of her fingers. She pursed her lips tighter until it resembled a thin, white line.

_(Charged chakra of opposing forces...Memories...Imprints..._Magic_...)_

When her escort neared the barrier, faint pinpoint sparks danced down his spine, causing him to giggle. Nearly Headless Nick then coughed in embarrassment and frowned faintly, "Aye – Unthinkable. To be a Has-Been and still feel unwanted discomfort!"

The Grey Lady merely sighed, gloomy. "Unfortunate."

Nick tipped his head, flourishing an arm in a gesture of extravagance. "Shall we then?"

* * *

Glancing up and over the yellowing pages of his copy of '_A Guide to Medieval Sorcery_', Kakashi observed the ghosts floating around the room. He could feel the hairs along his nape prickle uncomfortably but regardless, he continued to read – or at least, he pretended to peruse the dubious material in his hands.

(He knew he should've picked out that book about animagus transformation...)

Below the professors' dais, the students were flooding in and taking the seats at their respective tables. He was aware that pubescent children were typically loud (Rookie Nine and Team Gai came to mind) but that still didn't prepare him against the deafening shouts and clamour. Their chatter was, to say the least, distracting.

(After all, the Great Hall was established to have impeccable acoustics.)

The 'on-duty' disguised shinobi casually flipped a page of his text and did his best to filter away the laughter and prattle. And as he sat there in his seat, he realized that he's never looked forward to the start of dinner _this much_ before.

It'd certainly be nice if the children (_brats_) had food to preoccupy their yaps with.

* * *

Streamers of red trimmed with gold decorated the Gryffindor table. The Gryffindors was the House that personified valour and gallantry as well as including the extreme spectrum of excessively rash behaviour and better-than-thou tendencies.

Transfiguration Professor Minerva McGonagall was the Head of House for the Gryffindors who also doubly acted as the Deputy Headmistress. A stern woman with a sharp mind but soft heart, she took great pains to ensure that the best interests of the students were at the forefront of the school's ideology.

Unsurprisingly, it was one of her better students who took notice to the change of staff first. Upon sitting down at the Gryffindor table, Hermione Granger glanced at the teachers and pointed out, "Look. A new face."

"Face? What _face_?" Ron Weasley's brow furrowed. "Bloody hell! Is that our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor?"

The group of Gryffindor students who heard him looked up. They observed the man with the dishevelled midnight-dark hair and made note of the amber-coloured scarf that covered half his facial features.

...Mysterious. Quite mysterious.

* * *

Professor Vector muttered around her goblet, "It appears the Gryffindors have noticed."

"Wouldn't have expected any less..." replied Sinistra as she scrutinized the gaggle of murmuring students.

Kakashi said nothing as he turned another page of the book at hand.

* * *

"He looks almost..." Ginny Weasley paused as she fished for words. "...Normal."

"Normal?" Lavender Brown interjected. "Dressed like that I wouldn't put him as normal."

"He's not_ normal_ wearing a woolly scarf like that. Last time I checked, you don't wear those in early September," huffed Parvati Patil.

"Well...Normal as in...ordinary," said Ginny as she tried to explain her thoughts.

"I think you mean muggle-like, dear Ginny." Fred Weasley nodded, "Can't argue that he isn't muggle-like."

His twin, George Weasley, agreed wholeheartedly, "Oh yes, the bloke's very muggle-like. Maybe the scarf is a part of muggle fashion."

And it seemed the gaping and whispering finally warranted the man's attention. Their table hushed when the new professor glanced up from his book to stare at them with a _haunting_, single eye. When he finally looked away again, Harry Potter leaned in closer and asked, "You can tell that he's a muggle? How are you so sure?"

The twins exchanged a _look_ and answered in unison, "Trust us. He has to be a muggle."

Fred continued on that line of thought and said, "He has this _air _about him."

However Hermione immediately corrected them matter-of-factly. "But muggles can't see nor enter Hogwarts because of the Muggle-Repelling Charms."

There was another short pause held by the ones sitting at Hogwarts' Gryffindor table.

It was George who cleared his throat and suggested, "Maybe a squib then."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "But then how will he teach DADA if he's a squib?"

"Toe-may-to, toe-mah-to. How did Lockhart manage to teach DADA?" asked George.

"He didn't," answered Lee Jordan.

"_Exactly!_" chorused the twins gleefully.

"Great. Another subpar professor," muttered Dean Thomas.

Seamus Finnigan snorted and stated sagely, "At least the girls aren't swooning after him."

* * *

Minutes passed and the doors to the Great Hall opened with a _bang_, calling for immediate attention.

Tilting his head indolently, Kakashi watched as a troop of fidgeting kids filed in. The procession of tiny ankle biters – First Years, as whispered by Sinistra – was led by Professor McGonagall. Most were soaked through by rainwater but there was one kid in particular who was drowning in Hagrid's signature fur pelt.

He wrinkled his nose delicately. The boy permeated the musk of wet, swampy mammal.

(Later on – garnered from the strident boasts echoing in the hallways – he would learn that the boy, Dennis Creevey, had been tossed into the turbulent Great Lake during the ritual crossing and was 'saved' by the giant squid.

Been there. Done that.)

At an unseen signal, the organized line of children halted at the center of the Great Hall, dividing the room in two; their eyes were wide and set against nervous, pinched faces as they took in the magical sights. As if aware that Kakashi didn't understand what was happening, Vector provided a curt explanation – "Sorting." – that told him nothing and supposedly everything he needed to know.

He watched as McGonagall stood guardedly near a rickety old stool and held onto a large scroll primly. And to his fascination (_delight_), as the children settled down, the shabby pointed hat sitting on the stool broke into song and sang a _ditty_.

(Against his better judgement, he inconspicuously cracked open his Sharingan eye to gain another perspective of the extraordinary hat. However after one glimpse, he immediately snapped the eyelid shut over the bloodline limit, his borrowed eye sore and throbbing.

The hat was eerily void of chakra; the object was but a mere blank shimmering space when the pinwheel eye slid over it..._What_...?)

After the lengthy ode to Hogwarts and polite applause from the audience, the 'sorting' began. Kakashi observed quietly as McGonagall called forth the First Years one by one and had the hat placed on top of their heads. In a heartbeat – or sometimes after several – the hat would announce which house the child would be placed in with no one questioning its decision.

To say the least, Kakashi was somewhat sceptical and perplexed as he stared at the frayed hat. How could the wizards trust an inanimate – albeit talking – object with the decision that determines where the children would be stationed for the next seven years?

Biting his tongue to refrain from remarking inappropriately (_"I hope you don't have a wet blanket arranging Ministry events."_) and drawing pointless attention, Kakashi continued to read his book. He tuned out most of the inconsequential murmurs and waited...

...A dozen or more minutes later, an astonishingly serene atmosphere settled into the folds of the Great Hall. Noticing the change in mood, Kakashi looked up just in time to witness Dumbledore standing up from his seat, arms spread wide in a welcoming gesture.

Kakashi leaned back into his seat. _"Hm...So the staff and students are capable of respectfully holding their tongues. Are they waiting for Dumbledore's speech...?"_

But the Headmaster disappointed his hired foreigner when he only said two words and not a grandiose speech. This effectively limited the length of peace and quiet that his client had achieved.

"Tuck in!"

Magically, piping-hot food filled the plates from one side of the hall to the other. A unison clinking of silverware seemed to be the cue for the Great Hall to erupt into a flurry of activity and noise. He huffed, the small sound drowned out by the obscenely loud students. Casting a stray eye at his gleaming utensils, Kakashi resolutely ignored the feasting witches and wizards around him and turned the page of his book, 'absolutely engrossed'.

On the first chew of her potatoes, Professor Vector noticed his stasis and asked calmly, "Mr. Hatake, joining us at the table and not eating?"

A long pause followed. After the Arithmancy teacher was several mouthfuls into her meal, Kakashi responded candidly, "Oh no, I'm full. I can't take another bite."

Sinistra gazed at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "But we just started dinner."

Kakashi looked up briefly and his eye crinkled into his signature parody of a smile. "I ate before dinner started."

And that, apparently, was that when Kakashi focused on the text again. Unperturbed by his clear dismissal, his gathered colleagues knew better than to badger him for an extended period of time when confronted by that attitude. Besides, they were accustomed to the fact that their Mediator never ate in front of them.

(Then again, among the number of professors, there were a few who could care less if the shinobi decided to starve himself for whatever insane, illogical, 'Kakashi Hatake' reason.)

* * *

The House of Hufflepuff was known for their outstanding social skills, friendliness, and loyalty – as well as their less savoury traits like gossip-mongering, overbearing helper tendencies, and idealistic naivety.

Their Head of House, Herbology Professor Pomona Sprout, was a Hufflepuff alumnus. She took great pride in maintaining (preening and pruning and weeding) a standard into the House's metaphorical grounds of respect – hoping that, under her care, her students would flourish into mature, outstanding wizards and witches that will make a difference in society.

As like the other three tables in the Great Hall, the Hufflepuff dining surface was decorated with their house colours – yellow and black in this case. Clustered together along the table, the students carried numerous conversations amongst themselves but one of the main, recurring subjects tonight involved the unknown man sitting with the professors. They – as in the many half-blooded and pure blooded wizards – unknowingly agreed with the Weasley twins' initial assessment that their stranger was quite 'muggle-like'; however, they've also determined that the new arrival suffered a case of body-shyness.

To them, it was just so _painfully obvious_ that the man was a social-defunct.

(Basically, his 'social ineptitude' was 'showing'.)

And so, one such insightful realization blossomed during a conversation that included a clique of Hufflepuff Fourth Years and one senior...

* * *

"-not eating."

Ears prickled at the comment.

"A diet on the first day back? Which sissy-pants' not eating?" questioned Zacharias Smith in jest.

Susan Bones craned her head to question her older housemate. "Sorry for eavesdropping but was that you Cedric? I thought you _liked_ roasted chicken with pumpkin..."

The blond senior grinned cheerfully and nodded, "Yea I do like that dish, but we're talking about the new prof."

"Oh." The younger female Hufflepuff peeked at the stranger seated with the other teachers and raised a sardonic eyebrow. "You're right. He isn't eating."

Cedric informed her as well as the rest of the listening students nearby, "We just heard him tell Professor Sinistra that he ate already."

Megan Jones piped up, "Yea, but I'm thinking that there's more to it, right?"

"Probably," agreed Susan.

"Like the fact that he's hiding half his face underneath that kitschy scarf." Hannah Abbot swallowed her mouthful of turkey and commented curiously, "Maybe he's horrifically disfigured and doesn't want to remove his only cover."

"Hard to say." Justin Finch-Fletchley waved the fork in his hand around. "You see any scars?"

"The one slashed across his left eye." Ernie Macmillan chortled before continuing good-naturedly, "A bit hard to miss, see."

Zacharias questioned morbidly, "Do you think that there's anything _left_ under that eyelid? Maybe it's all blood, crust, and red muscle..."

Wayne Hopkins grinned and joined in. "I don't know about that...Maybe he metalized the walls."

"Can you imagine the smell of molten metal on flesh?" Zacharias shuddered lightly, smirking all the while. "No pain, no gain. Maybe a golden eye socket. That's pretty – What's the muggle terminology?"

"Fly. Pimp," snickered Wayne.

"And if there's a thief, they'd have to peel the gold outta his eye-"

Hannah's expression soured as she muttered around her spoon, "Please, you two, I'm eating."

"Yeah Zach, leave that alone until after the meal." Ernie stated in admonishment, "You don't want to cause people with sensitive stomachs to hurl their dinner."

Hannah sniffed, "So back to the conversation at hand..."

"I don't know about disfigurement," contributed Cedric. "If he was that conscious about his appearance, he would have also hid the vertical scar on his eye."

Susan tapped a finger against her chin and said, "...Maybe he's just shy."

"Shy?" Megan repeated.

Getting into the idea, Hannah added, "Like he can't stand it when people stare at his nose and mouth. You know, self-consciousness."

"Or maybe-" Justin paused, ears turning bright red in example, "-he blushes real easy."

_Blushing like a crushing schoolgirl._

Snickering, Susan continued empathically, "That would be kinda embarrassing, don't you think?"

The rest of the Hufflepuffs put that into serious consideration (the superimposed image of a beet red face behind a tomato red scarf popped into several minds).

They busted into throaty guffaws.

* * *

The peals of laughter caught instantaneous attention and the other occupants of the Great Hall wondered what had set off the Hufflepuff table.

Kakashi, conversely, ignored the ruckus and continued to read.

* * *

It was Salazar Slytherin who founded the House of Slytherin, basing it upon the principles of ambition and cunning – even extending into obsessive behaviour and in extreme cases, megalomania.

(For _megalomania_, see one Tom Marvolo Riddle; pseudonym: Lord Voldemort, The Dark Lord, You-Know-Who, He-Who-Must Not-Be-Named, etc.)

The Head of House, Potions Master Severus Snape, was by all means a 'simple' man who led an unfortunate double life – two personae in one body so merged together until the difference was indistinguishable. Trust instilled by Dumbledore allowed him to be the figure that watched over the Slytherin students, and secretly, ensure victory for the side opposing You-Know-Who.

At the Slytherin table sat mostly pure-blooded wizards and witches. Their general lull and apathy broke mid-feast.

Millicent Bulstrode started the conversation. "That bloke must be an idiot."

"Which one are you talking about? There are a lot of idiots here, Milli." Daphne Greengrass laughed snidely, "Just look at the Gryffindors – a picnic table filled with red-headed dimwits."

The female Slytherin's smirk widened before she shook her head, reiterating, "I meant the one Professor Snape is glowering at."

"The scrawny new teacher?" Tracey Davis wiped her mouth primly before saying, "He probably stole the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts from under the Professor's nose."

"Thwarted again," tacked on Millicent and Daphne, giggling. Snape's misfortune was slowly becoming a running gag amongst the students – Slytherin included but only in good jest (because Snape is still a part of Slytherin, through and through).

Pansy Parkinson rolled her eyes. "Well the new professor looks exotic," she muttered, nose wrinkled.

A male Slytherin student a few seats down hollered, "Like an exotic _fruit_!"

The surrounding Slytherin students sniggered gaily. While thoughtlessness was usually a biased trait given to the Slytherins, a few Ravenclaws from the next table over were still slightly appalled by their rudeness.

* * *

There was no doubt about whom those words were aimed at and _exotic fruit_ brought forward a rather strange plethora of images to mind. Despite her iron control, Vector's lips twitched upwards (because she doubted the Slytherin who made that comment knew what that word _meant_) then downwards (because it was still quite offensive if not used in endearment). Next to her Snape disguised his semi-amusement with a well-placed cough followed by a glare towards his students in reprimand.

It was (ever-so-thoughtful) Sinistra who finally took pity and decided to 'comfort' Hatake but before she could put forth a well-meaning word, she was rudely waved off.

Kakashi smiled sardonically. "Back home, I've garnered many names -"

Like for instance son of Konoha's White Fang, the brat, ANBU Dog ('graduated' to Hound at Captaincy), Sharingan Kakashi, the Copy Ninja, the annoying Leaf ninja, pervert, 'baka-sensei', son of a b– his thoughts derailed.

He chuckled nervously, "-But never exotic fruit before. In fact, I'm feeling quite flattered."

Vector smirked at how he overlooked the students' lack of respect. In contrast, Sinistra shook her head, figuring that they should've expected that kind of response from him.

At least it appeared he hadn't a clue what fruit meant in colloquial language.

* * *

(_Back to the Slytherin table..._)

Draco Malfoy considered the dorky man sitting at the staff table and muttered to Theodore Nott, "My father told me that he's an important person to the Ministry of Magic."

Passive in manner, Nott took up a spoon and ladled the rich broth into his bowl. Afterwards, he responded with a laid back, "Did he?"

"Apparently he's a diplomat from the East and was at the Quidditch World Cup by invite from the Ministry." Malfoy growled thoughtfully in a low whisper, "He made a scene when he argued with a Ministry Official."

Perceptive, Nott realized that Malfoy most likely had orders from his father to watch out for that man. The Slytherin swallowed the food in his mouth and said, "You're concerned."

"Don't use such weak words, Nott," snapped Malfoy.

Nott simply shrugged and continued to eat; he was only previously listening to humour Malfoy. If the issue doesn't concern him (yet), he wasn't going to care. Besides, he would figure out his stance on the matter when Dumbledore announces the man's purpose...

Blaise Zabini interrupted their private conversation (and Nott's musings) with a loud, "What a joke. He looks like he's about to fall asleep."

* * *

The House of Ravenclaw was established by Rowena Ravenclaw, symbolizing outstanding intelligence and higher learning. But even intelligence to the point of genius had their downfalls such as the social and emotional isolation; no one but other intellects could completely understand that sentiment.

Charms Professor Filius Flitwick, a world-class duellist back in his heyday and Head of House for Ravenclaw, could freely admit that he cares quite deeply for his students' wellbeing. Flitwick was more often than not the professor to turn to if one needed support. He was extremely willing to lend a helping hand when needed whether it was to listen to the students' problems or help them understand practical and theoretical magic.

He also encouraged higher-order thinking and debates, with the latter tactic presently used by the Ravenclaws in addressing the presence of the 'anomaly'. As logical fellows, they weren't as quick to jump the gun and claim that the man was here to teach DADA.

They weren't like the Gryffindors; they needed evidence or a rational reason first.

* * *

"He might be Vector's assistant," suggested Michael Corner. "He does look like the Arithmancy type."

"But why would Professor Vector need an assistant?" Anthony Goldstein scoffed lightly, "She's too much of a hands-on, involved teacher to try and pass us along to a second-rate assistant."

Padma Patil took a draught from her goblet before saying, "How about DADA?"

"We've been over this," sighed Anthony. "There's still an empty seat to the right of Dumbledore."

"Yea, and we can't rule out that it's for a new professor and not a guest," added Michael patiently.

Terry Boot shook his head stoutly. "I'm telling you lot, it has to do with the seating arrangements."

Eddie Carmichael interrupted them. "Seating arrangements?"

"If you noticed, the professors are seated in a very specific fashion." Terry Boot drew an invisible line where Dumbledore sat, dividing the teacher's table in two. "The ones currently sitting to Dumbledore's right have courses that require some form of arithmetic logic."

Eddie noticed Bathsheda Babbling, Aurora Sinistra, the unknown man, Septima Vector, Severus Snape, the empty seat, and then Dumbledore. He raised an eyebrow at seeing the Ancient Runes professor but otherwise accepted Terry's theory.

Anthony smirked, muggle cheesiness taking hold, "Hey, the new teacher might not be a magician but rather a mathematician!"

His 'witty joke', as usually, fell flat. The Ravenclaws who heard the statement were stone-faced and staring at Anthony blankly.

_What...?_

The rather embarrassed and exasperated Ravenclaw tried to explain himself, "You know...Magician? Mathematician? It _rhymes_?"

"Good for you. We're back in muggle grade school," teased Padma.

Michael snickered, "A gold star for effort, right Anthony?"

"Oh shut it, Michael."

Eddie addressed Terry again. "Alright, then what about to the left of Dumbledore?"

"The professors seated there represent courses that involve more 'practical' magic."

His eyes travelled over the figure of Dumbledore to Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, Poppy Pomfrey, Irma Pince, Rolanda Hooch, and Rubeus Hagrid.

Marietta Edgecombe, who had been listening to the explanation, remained unconvinced. "You're trying to see a pattern that fits."

"Am not!" bristled Terry.

"Yes, you are." Marietta pointed out easily. "I can easily tell you that the one's sitting to the Headmaster's right have classrooms above and below the ground to fourth floors. The professors to his left have rooms _within_ the ground to fourth floors."

Cho Chang nodded, "Right. So maybe the teachers were seated based on the location of their rooms and not on the subject they teach."

"That doesn't make sense! Why would they organize themselves like that?" argued Terry.

Almost forgotten, Luna Lovegood replied breezily, "It's Hogwarts, Terry, and Dumbledore's our Headmaster."

The Ravenclaws were startled. Logic like that shouldn't have made so much _sense_.

* * *

Once the first course was completed, the golden dishes were cleared and replaced with dessert.

And a dog. There was a dog sitting on the new teacher's dish.

The dog blinked. Kakashi blinked back.

Dumbledore continued to eat as if it was a normal occurrence while the teachers and students stared avidly.

"What the-!"

"Look there's a _dog_ on his _plate_!!!"

Pomfrey frowned, disgusted, "Isn't that...'Pakkun'?"

Indeed it was Pakkun but with whipped cream on his head too. He saluted with a lazy paw. ("Evenin' boss.")

("Pakkun.") The Konoha jounin stowed the book away and asked tiredly, ("And the others...?")

("We were raiding the kitchens so they're probably still downstairs, gorging.")

("...I see.") Kakashi gave him a _look_ that promised certain reprimand on the horizon.

Pakkun's nose twitched. ("Mind if I hop down now? My paws are cold. It ain't fun standing on refrigerated metal.")

Sighing, Kakashi commented, ("I should tell the house-elves to send you back down.")

("What, and let me miss all the fun with gawking children?") Pakkun leapt from the plate and balanced perfectly onto his lap, smearing cream all over his pants.

("Hnm...")

Sinistra interrupted, "Mr. Hatake, the dog."

"Hmm?" Kakashi used the dessert spoon that came with the platter to scoop off the cream on his nindog's head.

Dumbledore came to Pakkun's rescue. "He is welcomed to the feast."

Pakkun looked up at the client and bobbed his head. ("Thanks.")

Right eye half-lidded, Kakashi mentioned idly, ("You're spoiled.")

("Add princess to that and I won't warm your pillow at night,") retorted Pakkun, deadpanned.

Without an iota of remorse, Kakashi pushed him off his lap and allowed him to sprawl under the table. ("Stay down there.")

("Yeah, yeah, yeah...")

Shaking his fur out in spite, Pakkun splattered cream everywhere much to the disgust of the professors (Vector and Sinistra in particular) and the anger of Filch (his arthritic hands were clenching and unclenching in a motion best described as 'just _let_ me reach my broom so that I can smack you with it').

Kakashi appeared oblivious to the directed ire. Instead, he picked up another spoon and poked at his dessert. Gathering a spoonful, he lifted it close to his face, poised near where his mouth was-

Some of the students, especially the ones giggling early at the Hufflepuff table craned forward to watch.

-But he changed his mind and placed the spoon back down. The disappointment was _tangible_ but Kakashi sat through it all, oblivious, staring at the stormy night sky above.

* * *

Other than Pakkun's unorthodox and impromptu arrival, dessert passed relatively uneventful. It was only when Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet did the Great Hall fall silent, chatter ceasing as quickly as it had begun.

"Now that everyone is fed and watered, please allow me your attention as I impart to you various 'important' messages."

Kakashi sat up in his seat and paid careful consideration to his words.

"I will now direct you to our caretaker Mr. Filch's list of objects forbidden in the castle. This compilation of some four-hundred and thirty-eight items can be viewed at Mr. Filch's office door, if anyone is interested."

Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling. "The next item on the agenda: I must remind everyone that Hogsmede is only accessible to students over third year with parental or guardian permission and that the Forbidden Forest is out-of-bounds for _all_ students."

There was a short silence when the Headmaster glanced his way, and the shinobi _knew_.

"And as most of you may have noticed, we have a new staff member joining the Hogwarts family this year. Please help me in giving Mr. Kakashi Hatake, a diplomat from Eastern Asia, a warm and hearty welcome. May I present to you our new Hogwarts School Mediator."

Kakashi waved. Smattering, polite, curious applause came from the audience just as a low murmur of voices settled across all four tables.

"Eastern _Asia_?!"

"-not DADA?"

"-But then who's the bloke taking the cursed DADA seat?"

"What _does_ a Mediator do?"

"-Mediator to mediate-?"

"-to mediate what?"

"-Mediate mentality?"

"-Maybe a muggle psychologist."

"-Don't tell me we have a psycho counsellor-!"

Dumbledore allowed the whispers to continue briefly before clearing his throat and intervening, "Our Mediator, Mr. Hatake, holds a most auspicious and special role which directly ties in with the fact that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not be taking place this year."

Shocked silence and gasps filled the room. Kakashi spotted a kid turn a splotchy yellow-purple. (That can't be healthy.)

Their Headmaster continued to smile though. "Yes. This year starting in October, we will be maintaining a prestigious event that will occur for the entire school year. Much of your teachers' time and energy will be placed upon this event, which is why organizing the inter-house competition may not be most suitable." Dumbledore's excitement was almost palpable. "So, it is with great pleasure that I announce that this year Hogwarts will be-"

_BANG._

The doors to the Great Hall slammed open and effectively interrupted Dumbledore's speech. Gasps of surprise and fright echoed from table to table.

Dramatic backlight gave the figure at the doorway an eerie shadow. Kakashi, however, twitched and could almost hear the '_Dynamic entry!_' ringing in his ears.

Except the image was skewed.

The man was dressed in boggy blacks and browns with flyaway grey hair drizzled with rainwater. His face was weather-beaten and grooved with scars, old and deep into the epidermis. Even with the distance between them, Kakashi could detect his scent – a prominent mix of bitter mothballs, dust, forest mud, and storm.

But what made him tense though was the eye of electric blue iris against shocking white that swivelled around the room (three-hundred-sixty degree sight?). It spun in his eye socket and flitted over several staff members and students before it found his gaze and matched him stare for stare.

Kakashi tilted his head challengingly before curving his singular eye lightly in a smile. The older man snorted and loped up to the dais as if he owned the Great Hall.

At the front, the wizard offered Dumbledore a heavily scarred hand and the Headmaster shook it pleasantly. In low undertones, they had a short conversation.

"Welcome Alastor."

"Dumbledore." Alastor nodded a greeting. "Sorry for the late arrival but I'm sure you've heard."

"Did they find the intruder?"

Alastor's frown deepened and he shook his head. "No. Ministry's running around like headless chickens."

"We'll talk about this further at a later time. Please take a seat." Dumbledore ushered his guest towards the empty chair next to his place on the table.

Kakashi circumspectly watched Alastor eye the sausages on the plate suspiciously before consuming one. The man then took a long swig from the hip flask, electric blue eye swivelling in the socket...

* * *

From under the table, Pakkun groaned under his breath. "_Shodai Hokage_, what is that awful stench?"

Hackles rose along his neck. Pakkun could smell a strange concoction, its odour a distinct combination of old toenails, bitter root, rusted nails, and unwashed grime. Grumbling, he nosed Kakashi's ankle and tried to cover his olfactory organ with the cloth of Kakashi's pants.

He sneezed but his summon master was kind enough not to kick him away.

(...That was until he accidentally brushed against a ticklish nerve and shocked a chuckle from him.)

* * *

Dumbledore said brightly, "May I introduce to you our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Alastor Moody."

Kakashi didn't do clapping. The other staff and students were too distracted to applause (Kakashi heard whispers of 'Mad-Eye Moody' in the sea of teenagers). Only Dumbledore and Hagrid brought their hands together and their greeting was shortened when they realized that no one else joined them.

Moody appeared to be unbothered by the nonexistent reception.

Dumbledore grinned cheerfully and started again, "As I was saying before Professor Moody's arrival, this year Hogwarts is given the privilege of hosting an event that hasn't occurred for over a century. I have the pleasure of announcing that Hogwarts will be the venue for the Triwizard Tournament."

Kakashi counted away the silence. "_5...4...3..._"

"You're JOKING!" cried out a red-headed teen (_another_ Weasley? He certainly had physical similarities to Charlie).

The tension broke and a flood of laughter filled the Great Hall.

"No, Mr. Weasley-" Kakashi sighed. So he was right. Dumbledore continued, "I assure you that I am not joking but I do know an excellent joke that's bound to get a few chuckles-"

McGonagall cleared her throat.

"Probably not the best time though." Dumbledore smiled benignly, "But the Triwizard Tournament..."

At this point, Kakashi's attention drifted slightly, as he already knew about the tournament since his arrival at Hogwarts. Basically, the Triwizard Tournament is a competition between three of the largest European wizardry institutes – Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts. One 'champion' was selected from each school and they were pitted against each other through the means of three tasks. A century ago, the tasks might have put the champions in mortal danger but that had since been rectified – or so Kakashi had been told.

Not that Kakashi particularly enjoyed pitting students in life-or-death situations but he personally thought that the wizards might be babying their younger generation a bit too much. Tasks and challenges were made to test the student's mettle and in their culture, success could mean the difference between survival and death.

Dumbledore cleared his throat pointedly and Kakashi caught the tail end of his explanation. "-will be arriving in October. As they are foreign guests I will now ask that you extend every courtesy during their visit. I also hope that you will give your whole-hearted support to our Hogwarts champion and our Mediator will take steps to ensure proper school spirit is maintained."

_All_ eyes turned to him. Kakashi leaned back against his seat and said nothing.

(He noticed that a few Hufflepuff students were whispering amongst themselves, glancing at him before pointing at their cheeks and laughing.)

Dumbledore clapped his hands twice. "Now chop chop. Off to bed. It is important to be attentive for classes tomorrow. Prefects, please guide the First Years to the dormitories."

* * *

The cloak of shadows hid him as he stealthily flew from the castle and into the target area. Dark and oppressing, rain continued to pour from the heavens, impeding his limited visual senses. However, he took comfort from his affinity as a slice of retina-searing lightning pierced the air, illuminating the transparent doors.

With deft fingers and a skilled twist of a hand, he easily broke into the building. The first wave of heat permeated into the cool night and as he slipped into the single room, he was careful to close the door behind him quietly.

That night, he began the setup for his assignment, necessary exploding tags and all.

Let the mission begin.

* * *

**TBC**

Another excellent fanart, _charredfeathers_? Spoiling me, you are. Hee. And I do have an omake in the works now but that scene probably won't make an appearance for a couple of chapters yet. Readers: onwards to my profile for the second link ;D (Labeled 'Reading Materials')

**A/N:** Belated update is belated. Remember dear readers, keep those forks and knives pointed away from me and your persons at all times :)

Further disclaimer: exotic fruit was meant to be a double-entendre and not used to offend any readers.

~Phoenyxx


	7. 07: Only Human

**Take Seven:** Only Human (Underneath Dream and into Dreams without a Determined Reality.)

* * *

A bright, cheery morning dawned at Hogwarts and by seven-thirty-seven, the Great Hall was hustle-bustle with activity, packed with students and teachers alike (Dumbledore included). An array of delicious breakfast choices was presented neatly on the table surfaces; the house elves outdid themselves this time, what with the more Asian-inspired dishes sitting beside standard British fare.

Once again, Kakashi was sitting at his preordained seat, one hand firmly holding his choice of entertainment (a book about the importance of wand measurements) while the other hand was playing with the cutlery by his plate. Nimble fingers danced along the metal edges of a silver fork before the utensil was continuously twirled in a show of quick dexterity. Soon a knife and a spoon joined their spinning cutlery companion.

Professor Flitwick coughed by his elbow and raised a bushy white eyebrow. "Mr. Hatake, what are you doing?"

"Hmmm..." Kakashi placed his book on top of the platter in front of him and watched uninterested when platter _and_ book disappeared to, most likely, the kitchens below. Flicking his fingers casually to keep the momentum in the twirling cutlery, he gave Flitwick his half attention. "I am mentally calculating the necessary force to apply on the fork, knife, and spoon so that these items can reach a terminal velocity comparable to a high-speed, flying kunai."

McGonagall's scowl deepened as she listened to his string of nonsense words but she decided to humour the Leaf ninja. "A flying kunai?"

"Yes. I'm aiming for the banister up there." The jounin pointed at a dark corner of the ceiling where a raven sat preening his feathers and continued, "Considering that the fork, knife, and spoon weren't made with an aerodynamic projectile role in mind, they will most likely require a greater handling force. Furthermore, I imagine that there will be a rather rough trajectory and noisy, messy impact."

Snape sneered, lips curling. "Impossible."

"Really...?" Kakashi turned part way in his seat to stare down the Potions Master.

"I agree with Professor Snape," hummed Professor Sprout. "No offense whatsoever but surely you can't aim that low. No...Not that low at all. Your comfort zone is usually at higher and steeper angles."

The shinobi stated pleasantly enough, "I can adapt."

Knowing that there was no point in deterring his strong-willed hired help, Dumbledore interrupted the conversation with a piece of wisdom. "Well whatever support beam you are aiming for, Mr. Hatake, I wish to warn you against scratching the doors of the Great Hall."

"Expensive varnish, wasn't it?" queried Filius.

"Yes," nodded Dumbledore sagely, seriously. "Very pricy hazelnut-scented unicorn-based varnish. I believe Godric Gryffindor and Helga Hufflepuff paid a pretty fortune for a pint."

"That doesn't matter." Kakashi stood up from his seat, the chair scraping across the flagstone floor. "My aim is impeccable."

"With one eye?" asked Moody condescendingly. "Depth perception's important last I check."

"Isn't there an appropriate English phrase for this...?" The Leaf ninja pondered for a brief moment with an unnecessary exaggerated act. "Something about pots and kettles. Well. Good thing I'm not a pot but I can't say about you, kettle."

One of the Weasleys – well, Kakashi thought he was a Weasley with his sun fire hair – must have heard him for he pulled out his wand and conjured a kettle for Moody. The cheeky tinwork danced a little jig, much to Moody's ire and the students' amusement, and tipped his lid in a mock bow.

"Funny," muttered Severus, drab and monotone.

Flitwick chuckled agreeably. Eyes rolling behind stately glasses, McGonagall heaved a prim sigh. Sprout was all smiles, nodding along.

And Moody, he scowled darkly, clearly unhappy with the shinobi. So when Kakashi tossed the fork, knife, and spoon in a quick wrist release, Moody played saboteur and used his magic to redirect the projectiles. The metal utensils ended up nicking the Great Hall's front doors – chipping the lovely varnish.

All chatter from the students and teachers ceased.

"By jove-!" shouted one of the students in a cylindrical wizard's hat.

Kakashi gave Moody a disparaging look.

"Funny," repeated Severus and his lips curled with satisfaction and mockery.

McGonagall sighed again, "Why am I not surprised…?"

"That was not very nice of you, Moody," pitched in Sprout.

"I did what I had to do." Moody harrumphed and became one with his namesake, skulking in his chair and drinking out of his mysterious canister.

Dumbledore stood up in the midst of the grumbling and placated, "Settle down. Settle down. I'm sure Kakashi can fix this."

The shinobi, distracted from burning holes into Moody's skull (because striking down the raven with a fork felt important and Moody botched it for him!), blinked at Dumbledore owlishly. "Fix what?"

"The growing black hole in the door," chimed Flitwick as he pointed over his head towards the entranceway.

"And you don't ask me?" sniffed McGonagall, quite offended.

"My dear Professor," smiled Dumbledore calmly. "It is the task for our _jounin_ to solve. No one else would know how to truly help him but himself."

The other professors shared a glance before looking at Kakashi expectantly.

He stared back at them and shrugged petulantly, "You're the ones with magic."

With blue eyes – painfully blue and almost the same as _his_ – reflecting his gaze, Dumbledore stated seriously, "But you have _chakra_ and so are more suited to tackle the issue."

"Hmm." Finding that he couldn't argue the point, Kakashi jumped over the dais and in-between the students' tables. All noise faded. Walking until he was but three meters away from the entrance, he peered closely into the swirling abyss gnawing at the wooden door. "Feels familiar…"

The hair along his nape prickled uncomfortably and he knew why when he heard an over exaggerated whisper directed into his left ear. "Familiar? My Eternal Rival, always more observant than the youth!"

Kakashi turned his head, inch-by-inch, towards his blindside, utterly expressionless. "Hello Gai. What are you doing here?"

"Where else would I be but by your side on your illustrious adventure, Kakashi?" Gai Maito posed – one, two, three! – and grinned. "Surely you did not expect our flourishing and beautiful Konoha, our home, to abandon you so?"

"…No." Kakashi ignored Gai's exclamations of 'fire' and 'youth' and once again puzzled over the black swirling mess clouding the entryway. "…Strange…"

"Strange? Certainly yes, my Eternal Rival." The Green Beast of Konoha pranced forward and leaned in, nose almost touching the vortex. Spinning around to face Kakashi, a booming question escaped his upturned lips. "Do you have a daring escape plan yet?"

"Plan?"

"Oh how _hip_ and _cool_-!" Tears of joy spontaneously filled his eyes.

Kakashi rested a hand underneath his chin and took the final steps to the door. Taking a breath, Kakashi took the iron-wrought handle and pushed the door open.

The black vortex spun lazily and dispersed, allowing the light peeking from the revealed hallway purge the darkness of the Great Hall.

Dumbledore stood beside Kakashi. "That wasn't too hard of a task, was it?"

"…No."

Gai sniffed, "Then my Eternal Rival, I propose to give you a challenge worthy of your skills and deductive abilities!"

"Hrm."

"I concur with your friend, Kakashi…And it appears you have guests to attend to." Dumbledore stood calmly, ankle deep around furry bodies of white rabbits, weasels, and ferrets. "Perhaps this can be a suitable challenge."

Unbidden, an eyebrow rose. When did he miss the Great Hall being flooded with cute, fuzzy animals? A white rabbit sat on her haunches and gave him a beady, accusing stare.

"My Eternal Rival! Today is the day I will best you and your score! Whoever manages to carry the greatest number of our four-legged friends in their arms shall win! And I _will not lose_ but if I do, Kakashi, I will finish one-thousand-and-one finger push-ups while you sit on my shoulders and make one-thousand-and-one laps around the wonderous Great Lake!" Gai smiled, teeth reflecting off sunlight. "That is my promise – my _shinobi_ way!"

"Your _shinobi_ way, hm?" Kakashi stared at Gai idly before subjecting himself to the task. "Very well."

"Perfect!" The green-clad jounin posed and set off to beat his rival.

Dumbledore chuckled. "I hope you can fix this problem as well, Kakashi."

"Any chance your magic-?"

"No magic."

"Alright." A soft exhale. "I will fix this problem."

"Yo, Kakashi."

He answered his pug when said canine nipped at his ankle (or was that the pesky weasel again?). "Yes, Pakkun?"

"Since it's not dinnertime, I'm guessing you don't need to use my head as a dessert plate?"

"…?"

(The raven crowed from its banister perch. With grace, the midnight bird flew into the enchanted ceiling and hid behind the silver-lined crimson clouds...)

* * *

Disquiet. Discomfort. An unfocused slate-coloured eye snapped open.

The first object he saw was Bisuke's stubby, wet nose and belatedly, he realized he had a warm, heavy, breathing mass of _dog_ lying prone across his chest. He recalled how he released the other summons the previous night as per discipline but kept Bisuke around because he was the only one who didn't join Pakkun's oh-so-brilliant 'raid the pantry' escapade.

Gentle fingers tousled a floppy dog ear. Bisuke, who was still in mid-dream, kicked him in reflex. Scowling, Kakashi grunted and stilled the twitching dog limb.

Briefly overlooking his summon, he took time to scan his surroundings to spot anything out of place in his temporary quarters. Unsurprisingly, everything was as it should be and the connected bathroom was empty (No _Gai_ lurking behind the shower curtains...). The many books and papers strewn over the desk and floor contributed to a normal scene and mercifully, through the night he didn't gain new bizarre occupants like _rabbits_ or _weasels_ or _ferrets_. By the corner on the wall, the black cloth still covered the sole painting in the room much to the chagrin of the man occupying said portrait; in fact, he was forced to relocate to the next floor down after his complaints about 'claustrophobia' were ignored.

Exhaling slowly and steadily, Kakashi eased his right hand up and over his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose in gentle circles.

He murmured softly, "So that was...a dream."

Ears perked, Bisuke yawned and muttered tiredly, "What kind of dream...?"

_A strange one. _For one, there were not-weapons and kunai involved with ravens and weasels and and _black holes_ and unhelpful wizards and Gai.

(...Impending skirmishes and warwith pawns and traitors and not-heroes and Akatsuki and there was doubt and uncertainty and a surprising degree of homesickness...)

Brushing back silver hair with his brows furrowed, he sighed, "...Nevermind."

"Ah." The ginger-brown nindog blinked his droopy eyes, pausing, before he voiced in a tone laced with cold scepticism. "Whatever you say, boss."

"_Trust Bisuke to not question." _

Kakashi tilted his head further into the fluffy down-stuffed pillows, eyes tracing the spidery cracks on the ceiling. Quiet descended the room. The absurdity he felt from the dream slowly trickled through the cracks of his mind and left him to peace. With a heavy left hand, he petted his companion from head to tail, a soothing gesture for both parties.

Bisuke responded with a soft snuff against his duvet cover, head lolled gently to the side. Legs kicked outwards in a stretch, the dog spread across his middle gradually settled and blinked his eyes wearily. Kakashi left the weight of his hand splayed over Bisuke's torso, grounding them both.

(And neither of them would ever admit to cuddling because they were most definitely_ not_. Cuddling wasn't even in ninja vocabulary. They were...resting...or, well, something similar to that idea.)

* * *

"_Early morning...Rain is falling..."_

Stilted grey light flooded through the windows of Hogwarts. It was seven-thirty in the morning, exactly half an hour before the start of the first classes of the year. Wisely, Kakashi took precaution to avoid the ruckus in the Great Hall. Instead with '_Hogwarts, A History_' opened, he wandered the halls with Bisuke, short but strong limbs easily keeping pace, chasing at his heels.

But even with his extra care in taking the less populated hallways, there were curious students milling around, their half-whispers prickling his senses.

"Look! The new professor-"

"And that dog with him-"

"-ose _ears_ and tho-"

"-eyes are funny look-"

"-erlin's great long _beard_, it's unnatur-."

"-watched too much muggle televis-."

"Cute cape-!"

"-that mark on the forehead-"

"Quite the muggy weather we're having."

There was an unnoticeable stop before Kakashi agreed softly, "Ah."

"Good morning, Mr. Hatake." That was more of a resigned jab. No, Hogwarts' staff surely did not forget the way this shinobi riled their Potions Master; certainly though, the shinobi was partially faultless on that part when it was _said_ Potions Master who wouldn't let them forget.

Skimming the page of his book, he exchanged politely, "Good morning, Professor Sprout."

The stout woman was walking steadily beside the taller, lankier man and hinted, "Surely you have a reason for heading this way."

'This way' included her greenhouses. Kakashi smiled benignly at the thought before verbally responding, "Yes."

A drawn out pause lasted briefly as their footsteps – and pitter-patter of claws – echoed the hallway. Sprout prompted, "And?"

"And I would like to observe your class today." Making an abstract motion with his left hand as he juggled _'Hogwarts, A History'_ in his right, Kakashi added a chipper tone he didn't feel, "For the cultural and educational experience."

* * *

Adjusting the strap to his bag, Neville stood near the entrance of Greenhouse Three, waiting patiently for Professor Sprout to arrive. Alone, he shifted from foot to foot nervously, wondering why the kind Professor was running late on the first day. He knew that the herbologist liked to prepare the specimens before the class arrived and Neville – if time permitted – would often try and arrive earlier to lend a hand.

He took a glance at his watch. _Seven-forty-eight_. Class was going to start in twelve minutes. Eyes wide and watching the immediate area for the Professor, he could spot a few curious Hufflepuff classmates approaching the assigned greenhouse from a distance away. And there, twenty paces in front of them...

"-I _am_ flattered you decided to attend mine first, don't get me wrong-" said Professor Sprout, voice carrying loudly over the space from the entrance of the main castle to the greenhouses. To Neville, she seemed more exasperated than annoyed.

Beside her, the Mediator and his pet – a different dog from the feast – followed persistently. Ambling along and almost towering over Pomona Sprout height-wise was the man, Mr. Hatake, slouched forward with his hands in his trouser pockets. Neville puzzled over how his laidback gait was neither too slow nor too fast, rather, it was at just the right speed to match the pace of Professor Sprout.

Neville heard him say smoothly, deep baritone voice ringing clearly in the courtyard, "And I am grateful."

The professor he respected gave her companion a sidelong glance. "Yes, as you should be."

Mr. Hatake gave her a noncommittal hum.

"Surely I can direct you to Minerva's class? I believe she has First years this morning and they are generally more receptive."

There was an almost comically wounded expression on his face as the black-haired man bemoaned, "I feel as if you don't wish for my presence here, Professor. Perhaps I _should_ look for Professor McGonagall…"

Anyone a mile away could see the understatement that _'don't wish for my presence' _was. In fact, Neville noticed that Professor Sprout looked quite ready to deny the man – that was, until before that statement.

Now in the face of Mr. Hatake's hurt, Sprout only hesitated before finally relenting. "No, you don't have to find her." The professor said regretfully, "Sorry, Mr. Hatake, if my intentions appear negative. That wasn't my aim."

A neutral grunt was his simple response.

Interestingly, Sprout's face seemed startlingly pinched as she chided, "But please do take care around the Flutterby bushes."

"Of course, Professor," answered Mr. Hatake obediently.

"And no nearing the work tables."

"No. That didn't even cross my mind."

Here, the Herbology Professor added matter-of-factly, "And I trust that your hands today are safely within the confines of your pockets?"

"Well-" The foreigner started, "I think I should say again that shattering your Flutterby bush pot _was_ a ruse-"

Neville spotted Sprout's pointed look almost as soon as Mr. Hatake did; the young Gryffindor knew that gaze well and it appeared Hogwarts' Mediator understood what was expected too. Obedience. Like handing over a reluctant admittance, the man sighed, restating dutifully, "-that I will not repeat. I will keep my hands to myself unless otherwise asked of."

"Good!" Smiling cheerfully now, Professor Sprout walked the final meters to the entrance of her garden classroom and greeted, "Hullo Mr. Longbottom. Earlier than usual."

"Hu-oh! Good morning." He stuttered, feeling heat creep up his neck when the Professor focused her attention on him. And then, taking an unconscious step backwards when the unfamiliar grey eye rested on his person with dulled interest, Neville swallowed, "Actually Professor…It's nearly time for class to start."

"Oh that's no good. Running late on the first day!" Professor Sprout took a heavyset key from her cloak pocket to open the locked door of the greenhouse. Pushing her way through the entrance, she beckoned for them to follow. The Mediator turned his attention back to the woman in front of him and trailed along.

Neville let loose a breath and was about to enter the greenhouse as well when a small furry body stepped in the way. The dog, continuing to strut behind his master, paused briefly at the threshold of the greenhouse door to direct a soulful, pathetic stare back at him. Neville halted mid-step, returning the eye contact, and was taken aback by the depth of intelligence he saw. Unbeknownst, self-preservation instincts kicked in. Sweating whilst smiling nervously, Neville motioned with his hands, graciously offering the pup first claim to entry.

A short appraising look and low snort later, the animal trotted along into the greenhouse, tail wagging.

Neville followed after it. He probably imagined it but he thought he heard the dog _mutter_ something in _words _when the canine turned away…

(And within the next few weeks when more information was revealed about Mr. Hatake and his 'pets', Neville would realize that the dog was probably saying 'thank you'.)

* * *

Ron did a double-take – as did most of his age-mates – when they entered the greenhouse and spotted not only Professor Sprout but also their 'Hogwarts' School Mediator' loitering behind her. An orange-shaded dog with a strange tattoo branded on its forehead sat by the man's heel. The canine snuffed loudly but otherwise seemed bored – that is if dogs could be victims of monotony.

The Golden Trio settled in on a workbench unobtrusively. He started, "What do you think he's doing here?"

"Maybe he's here to teach," responded Harry.

Hermione answered shrewdly, "That or to observe the class."

"Why would he want to do something like that?" asked Ron. "It's not _mediating_ anything."

Hermione gave him a cross look. "We don't even know what Dumbledore truly meant about the Mediator position. It's best if we don't jump to conclusions."

"But we do 'mione. He even explained it to us."

"I don't think celebrating 'inter-house relations' and maintaining 'proper school spirit' warrants an official staff position. There must be another reason," she insisted.

"Nah." Ron leaned against the table and teased, "You just don't want to accept the fact that he's getting paid to do nothing."

"Ron!" came her scandalized hiss. "Honestly."

A cross between amused and exasperated, Harry interrupted his bickering friends, "Well he's here now and class is gonna start soon…"

"I still say he'll have a hand in our education," added Hermione stubbornly.

Harry adjusted his glasses and voiced sheepishly, "I actually agree with Ron on this one."

She threw her hands up into the air. "You two are hopeless."

"Settle Fourth Years."

The three Gryffindors fell silent. Professor Sprout clapped her hands together and continued along when the noise died down. "Most exciting to be back but there will be plenty of time for chit-chat later."

A hand shot up immediately and Ron watched on with interest when the Professor bade her to speak.

Hannah Abbot asked hesitatingly, "Are we being graded by Mr. Hatake?"

"Why don't we direct that question to Mr. Hatake?" deferred Professor Sprout with a small grin.

Beside him, he could feel Hermoine tense like a taut wire and the rest of the class stirred uneasily. He asked Harry, "You don't suppose they'd be cruel enough to give us a pop quiz the first day back?"

His best friend frowned, "Dunno, Prof-"

"Hush, it looks like he's about to speak," rebuked Hermione.

Indeed, Mr. Hatake was shifting his arms before answering with a curt, "No."

The class waited for an explanation and when they received none, Professor Sprout clucked, "What Mr. Hatake means is that he'll be watching and learning with the class today-" Ron gave Hermione a flat look when she smiled. "-So let's get started."

The Professor picked up the specimen. "Bubotuber and they need squeezing."

Ron greened at the sight of the slimy, black, slug-like tubers sticking out of the soil.

Sprout continued, "You will collect the pus-"

"The _what_?"

Hatake's dog sat up straighter with the loud proclamation while the owner of said dog appeared unaffected. Ron had a sinking suspicion that even when standing amidst squirting green ooze, the man would be still just as unfazed as he was now.

Harry, though, wrinkled his nose in an expression of revulsion and Ron agreed that Seamus' and Harry's disgust was wholeheartedly justified. Certainly, the red head did not want to collect _pus_ anytime soon in his lifetime.

But it seemed Sprout was less than sympathetic by the outburst. "Pus, Finnigan, Pus. Extremely valuable too, so don't waste-"

A loud _hiss _and _bang_.

Ron and the rest of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs watched with wide eyes and open mouths as the gilded metal rack behind Professor Sprout snapped apart. Tilting precariously were several pots, glass vases, and heavy clay containers. Just before they fell upon the stout witch, the students witnessed Hatake make an almost frantic, graceless dive – more belly flop, really – and managed to push the woman out of harms way.

Adobe pots shattered in a halo behind the still, huddled figures of their Herbology Professor and Mediator.

And then the greenhouse erupted in mad screeches and chaos.

* * *

"Professor! Professor," cried out Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"Wait, give them room," bayed Susan Bones.

Blowing disarrayed bangs away to keep them from obscuring her sight, Sprout, struggling, sat up and called out sharply to her panicking students, "Is everyone alright?"

There was a murmured chorus of 'yes'.

"Are you alright, Professor?" asked their Mediator as he righted himself.

Horrified gasps were traded amongst the circle of students.

Sprout glanced at Kakashi and paled. "Hatake-!"

The foreigner, who was kneeling in front of her, reeled back with his hands up in a gesture of defence. "My hands didn't leave my pockets."

She ogled him and sputtered, confounded that he thought she was blaming him for the strange collapsing of the metal racks. "No. You're bleeding!"

A ripple of panicked chattering erupted from the students when they heard of the injury. Some even craned their heads out to try and catch a glimpse of it. The others who were up front and in perfect view of the scene bit down on their lips at the sight of dripping blood from the open wound.

"Oh?" Kakashi relaxed and glanced at his arm, nodding. "So I am."

"And your head…Doesn't it hurt?" Her hand hovered over the deep gash while her eyes traced the livid bruise blooming on his temple.

"…Yes. Yes it does." The frown turned into a grimace of agony but he seemed distracted. He looked around and called out, ("Bisuke.")

Sprout asked, "Bis-cuit?" The students surrounded them repeated the word in hushed tones. "Biscuit? Biscuit?"

The dog that accompanied Kakashi emerged from beneath the cover of a workstation and bounded over. She watched as the foreigner rested his good hand on the top of the canine's head when it neared and spoke a sentence in his native language – a language she, as well as the students, didn't understand.

("_Epsilon-delta-four._")

Ginger-furred dog ears perked up perceptibly before flattening. Biscuit visibly wilted and whined, resting a paw on the knee of his master.

Glancing from the wailing dog and injured man before her, she fluttered and rose to her feet. "This will not do. We must get you to Poppy immediately."

The Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors fidgeted and the Professor waved them off. "Class is dismissed."

"But Professor! Do you need help…?"

"No, we will be fine," stated Sprout firmly. As the last students trickled out of the classroom with several backward glances, Sprout explained quickly, "Mr. Hatake, I will need to immobilize you for the time being to prevent your blood from flowing any faster."

"I see." There was a rebellious spark that was quickly hidden. "If that is what you deem the best course of action, I'll agree."

"I'm afraid there may be potentially dangerous residues circulating throughout your body. In a greenhouse, you can't be too cautious." Sprout pursed her lips together and took her wand out. "_Petrificus totalis_. _Mobilicorpus_."

"Let us go, Biscuit – was it not? Yes, Biscuit," Sprout muttered and took the fastest route to the Infirmary.

The little dog, now-dubbed Biscuit, appeared displeased but otherwise tracked after his helplessly frozen master who was at the mercy of the Hufflepuff Head of House.

* * *

"-Don't really understand what happened, Poppy," fretted Sprout. "I was instructing the children on the merits of collecting Bubotuber pus and out of nowhere was this dreadful sound like snapping metal and then the racks behind me came apart!"

"Oh my…" Madam Pomfrey replied from the backroom as she fetched the supplies.

"And if it wasn't for Mr. Hatake, I'm sure the racks would have fell on top of me!" proclaimed Sprout almost shrilly.

"Really?" floated Poppy's voice. "Is that why-?"

Sprout grinned, rubbing a smudge of dirt on her cheek self-consciously, "He pushed me out of harms way. Bravery and heroics."

"Well I'm glad you're safe Pomona and we definitely need to get someone to investigate that later but right now..."

Kakashi looked up. The two-inch deep gash along his arm as well as the bruise on his forehead was healing along nicely because of several elaborate flicks with Pomfrey's wand. Reclined against the pillows of the bed, he tracked the medic's movements as she reappeared. In her arms were several vials and Kakashi had a sinking suspicion he was expected to drink the contained concoctions. Beside him, Bisuke was quiet but immediately hid his nose into the covers of the bed.

("What is it?")

("Smells bad.")

Sprout, situated unobtrusively at the corner of the room, listened in with interest.

("The potions?") At Bisuke's nod, Kakashi could feel his anxiety rising. ("You don't suppose you can drink them for me?")

("Sorry boss, but the medic-")

Kakashi interrupted hopefully, ("The medic doesn't have to know.")

("Boss…But you've always been telling us to 'not mess with the medics'.")

("But-")

("And isn't this part of the mission?")

An irritable frown was hidden behind his navy-blue scarf. He was about to retort when Pomfrey interrupted their banter.

Poppy, halting at the foot of his bed, began passing the flasks. The first one was bright red. "Drink this. A blood replenishing potion."

He sighed, very careful to hide the unease, and took the bottle. Pomfrey reproached, "I don't think I have to remind you that you've lost a lot of blood."

With mock cheer, Kakashi tipped the liquid down his throat quickly and nearly gagged. He drank quite a few unsavoury concoctions over the years but this…The blood replenishing potion tasted terrible – like drinking viscous blood or a sour corn syrup and iron slurry.

Poppy took the empty flask from his hands and pressed another one into it. "Good man. You would do well in Gryffindor, dear."

Ah. So it was 'dear' now, was it? "Thanks, Madam." Kakashi twirled the potion in his hand. "What is this?"

"Antitoxin."

"…To drink?"

Poppy frowned, lips whitening, "Are you questioning my methods, Hatake?"

"…Of course not, Madam. You would know best."

"Good. Drink up."

And so for the next twenty minutes, he was filled to the brim with magic-based cocktails designed to 'bolster health and recovery'. Surely there was something wrong when he gradually felt sicker and sicker to the point…Well…It definitely wasn't a shining moment in his life when he…

…He threw his proverbial cookies. (All without revealing his face, naturally.)

After he was done, the medic gave him a glass of cool water. Glancing at the worried expression on Sprout and a careful professionalism and genteel he never witnessed from the medic, he couldn't help but smirk gleefully.

Maybe becoming sick wasn't so bad in hindsight. As the English phrase goes, '_Hook, line, _and_ sinker_'.

"_Phase one complete. Phase two _complete_."_

* * *

("You did well back there, Bisuke.")

("Thanks boss.")

Left alone in the infirmary while Madam Pomfrey lurked in her office, Kakashi and Bisuke were resting on the provided bed. The jounin-ranked shinobi shuffled a hand through his hair and remarked, feeling he had to explain himself, ("I know I rarely use _epsilon-delta-four _but the situation called for it.")

Because, rarely used as it was, that command, 'epsilon', or _act_, and 'delta-four', _retreat to sympathy,_ was also usually given to Guruko only, not Bisuke.

("I copied Guruko…Doing my impression of him begging without the slobber,") stated the summon as he sat up, alert. ("But why that command specifically?")

("Well I _was_ trying to win sympathy points for the mission,") murmured the shinobi as he swung his legs off of the cot and stood up shakily before sitting back down. He rubbed his arm. ("And it worked, for the most part.")

("Boss…") Bisuke's ears tipped downwards, nose catching a sniff of illness.

A warning-laced reprimand. ("I'm fine.") The shinobi wet his lips and frowned, ("Though remind me to double underline in red the sentence 'chakra and magic do not mix when applied internally' on the mission scroll.")

Kakashi had to admit. The potions he consumed are proving to have a very…potent effect against his stomach. Maybe Konoha could benefit from this wizardry-medic-know-how…

Certainly, he couldn't imagine his enemies enjoying what he drank this morning.

Bisuke shook him out of his reverie when he nodded. ("Will do boss.")

"Good…" Kakashi noticed Bisuke understand the gist of the English word. ("Now let's go.")

("Go? But the lady medic…") He waved a paw. ("She didn't smell happy when you tried to get out.")

("But I'm healed.") Kakashi tried to shake off his light-headedness. ("She healed me!")

Bisuke almost wished Pakkun were here to talk some sense into Kakashi.

But that turned out unnecessary because Poppy suddenly appeared, sticking her head out the office door to glare at his boss, and chided, "Stay put in bed, Mr. Hatake."

* * *

So the morning past uneventfully with quite a bit of fidgeting on part of the patient. Bisuke though, he ended up staring at the medic for the remainder of their stay until lunchtime was just about to roll around the corner and…

"That's it!" Pomfrey marched towards Kakashi and faced him. "Just go."

"Really?" asked Kakashi suspiciously.

"Your dog is…" The medic let loose a strangled noise, shooting a dirty look at the innocently staring canine (who, did she mention, was _still unblinkingly staring_ at her). "-Distracting me."

Bisuke shook out his fur. Kakashi shrugged. "He's curious and bored."

"So, don't let me hold _you_ back like you've been holding _me_ back from _completing my work_." Poppy pointed to the door. "Go on then and good riddance."

Ginger-furred ears twitched as Kakashi sneaked a hand to ruffle his head in appreciation.

Escape from infirmary? Mission also complete!

* * *

Being gawked at by the masses? This sort of reception he did not expect.

He felt…diseased and the students certainly weren't helping matters by giving him such a wide berth when he passed by. He was almost tempted to hail one of the kids to see if they'd faint if he addressed them – being as they often went white as a sheet as he neared.

Kakashi scratched at the bandage around his arm, the stark white cloth peeking through his black cloak easily. He murmured almost absently, ("They seem antsy.")

Bisuke trotted along, mum about his boss' obliviousness. And they called him 'Kakashi of the Sharingan'! ("Boss. I think they're in awe.")

("…Of what?")

("I don't know.") But he did. ("They smell like nervous sweat when they approach you.")

The shinobi gave his summon a flat sidelong glance using his good eye. ("I didn't need to know that.")

("Just doing my duty. You know. Reporting to you.") There was no bite of sarcasm there. Kakashi knew Bisuke was being serious; he hardly ever jokes around. Besides he only needed one cynical canine in his dog pack and that role went to Pakkun.

"_Good thing Pakkun isn't here to witness this…But then again…"_ He took a second glance at Bisuke. _"He might squeal."_ That revelation only caused him to sigh more deeply.

But his mood was shortened when…"Mr. Hatake." He was addressed.

Kakashi bobbed his head politely. "Professor McGonagall."

Professor McGonagall, with books piled high in her arms, wore a severe expression. She accompanied his calm jaunt down the hall. "I have a note from the Headmaster," was the curt statement.

"_No wonder she looks like Tsunade-sama without her sake…Seems like McGonagall doesn't like playing messenger, but then again, who does?"_ But Kakashi kept those thoughts internalized and graciously took the proffered note that somehow magically flew in front of his face. "Thank you."

McGonagall's brow creased even deeper as she wavered before asking with aseptic kindness, "I heard from Pomona. Are you alright?"

Kakashi pocketed the note without a second glance. "I'll live." His ears perked when he caught sound of a growing crowd down the hall.

"Good." McGonagall uttered under her breath in a statement that Kakashi knew wasn't meant for his ears. "Hm. _Gryffindor_? Really Pomona?"

As the two were _about_ to turn the corner of the hallway and McGonagall was _about _to take her leave from Kakashi, they were stalled.

Beside him, McGonagall dropped all her books in dramatic shock – not that he could completely blame her. He took in the spectacle at the atrium and remarked softly, "Never gets dull around here, does it?"

From his vantage point up at the top of the stairs, he could see a crowd of students watching with wide-eyed amazement. At the center was mysterious Professor Moody of 'Defence Against the Dark Arts' flinging around a…

…Was that a _ferret_? Kakashi might just have to humour the idea of Moody being previously involved with a lion circus act. Maybe Moody had to throw lions around…He sure looked experienced enough throwing around helpless bodies and that scenario could certainly explain how Moody received all those hideous scars marring his face...

Bisuke's ears downturned in sympathy and McGonagall cried out, shocked, "Professor Moody!"

The crowds' attention was diverted onto them. The murmuring intensified to a frenzy.

Moody, looking less drowned than he remembered, answered calmly, "Hello, Professor McGonagall…and Mr. Hatake, was it? I don't think we've been introduced yet."

"No better time than now," he quipped. "It's nice to meet your acquaintance, Professor Moody."

McGonagall shot him a withering look before turning back to Moody. "What are you doing?"

"Teaching."

This time, Kakashi did feel the shock that McGonagall might have experienced when they initially arrived at the scene. The Head of Gryffindor was obviously much beyond that point now when she let loose a strangled, "Is that a _student_?!"

With the one and one together, Kakashi commanded curtly, ("Bisuke. _Gamma_.")

_Gamma_. _Retrieve_.

Sprinting faster than wizard eyes could track, Bisuke snatched the bouncing ferret from the air and held the student-turned-animal by the nape of his neck a distance away from Moody.

McGonagall paled even further. "Mr. Hatake! Call off your dog at once."

Kakashi's eyebrows contracted downward. "Bisuke isn't hurting him."

"Just-!"

"And I believe that this is a better alternative than suffering from bruises, wouldn't you agree, Professor?"

The Transfiguration Professor's mouth opened and closed silently in protest.

Walking until he was arms-length from Bisuke, Moody knelt in front of the calm dog carrying the squirming animal in his mouth. Palms up as a gesture best perceived as 'not an enemy', the ex-Auror slowly reached out to take the ferret but stopped when the dog growled.

Moody stilled. Draco Malfoy stopped struggling, clearly frightened. The students held baited breaths, enraptured by the scene.

Walking down the stairs until he was at the base, Kakashi clucked, ("Go ahead, Bisuke.")

Obediently, the summon dropped his cargo gently on the ground. Moody, in a quick display of dexterity, grabbed the shaking ferret before he could run away.

Kakashi remarked, "Transfiguration as punishment." McGonagall twitched when he asked her, "I didn't know Hogwarts had medieval punishments still in practice." He should know what constituted as medieval punishment; he had read it in '_A Guide to Medieval Sorcery_'.

Moody answered for her, offering Kakashi a grizzly, grim smile. "Whatever works."

That statement seemed to shake McGonagall out of her stupor. "No! What are you teaching Mr. Hatake, _Professor_?!" she emphasized, rushing down the stairway in a flurry of hasty steps. She drew out her wand and a moment later, the blond Malfoy heir lay sprawled across the stone-flagged floor on top of Moody's feet.

Face red, McGonagall rounded on Moody again, "Surely Professor Dumbledore has mentioned that we _never_ use Transfiguration as punishment?"

"He might've…" Moody shrugged, electric blue eye spinning in its socket. "But I thought a sharper reprimand woulda been more effective."

"Detentions! That's what you use as punishment," growled McGonagall. "Or else you talk to their Head of House."

"Might as well go do that then." Moody stared down at Malfoy darkly. "Been meanin' to talk to Snape…An old friend…" He scratched his chin and tugged Malfoy by the upper arm, raising him up off the floor. "Come along."

McGonagall watched the spectacle with mixed feelings.

"Oh, and Kakashi Hatake?" Moody turned back around to face the shinobi.

Kakashi didn't back down. "Alastor Moody."

"Useful dog." He gave a harsh bark of laughter. "Cute thing."

The shinobi pocketed his hands, agreeing with a mild, "Ah."

A stare off. 'The ex-Auror' seemed to gauge 'the foreigner' before he offered a scarred hand. All the students around them shifted in poorly concealed surprise.

Kakashi glanced at the hand before reluctantly offering his.

They shared a cordial hand shake.

* * *

"Did you hear how Hatake rescued Professor Sprout from an acid-spitting Bubotuber?" asked a Hufflepuff student excitedly. "It's been said that Hatake jumped into the fray, got himself injured, but managed to subdue the beast with a complex _Incendio_ spell."

"What? That's not what happened – and I should know 'cause I was there!" exclaimed Justin.

Megan Jones piped, "Well never mind that – his dog was so impressive! I mean the way it just snatched Malfoy outta the air like that-! Utterly amazing."

"Though couldn't he have waited a bit longer? Malfoy had it coming…" muttered Zacharias Smith.

"I'm just kinda surprised Moody didn't round in on Hatake when he intervened," said Ernie.

"Yea, that too."

Justin thought out loud, "Though, kind of strange, Professor Moody and Mr. Hatake do seem to get along swimmingly, having just met."

"Well you can't forget Mr. Hatake's a diplomat."

Blank looks were shared around.

Susan Bones explained patiently, "That means that he probably has diplomatic immunity and perhaps power to sway over the Ministry. And Moody, he's _ex-Auror_ of the Ministry and I've heard from my aunt that he was one of their best, so he probably knows about Hatake's position."

"Oh." The other students mulled over that information.

Then Ernie started chuckling, "But anyway, did you _see_ McGonagall's _face_? Priceless."

Snape, who just finished his unnerving 'conversation' with Moody, was marching down the hallway with Dumbledore when they caught a snippet of the conversation. The Potions Master scowled darkly at the gossiping students, who, upon noticing their presence, scattered.

Beside him, Dumbledore was glad he decided it was about time that he and Kakashi have afternoon tea – a _serious_ afternoon tea.

All he would need to do now is add to the agenda: 'reemphasis on _no_ corporal punishment'.

* * *

**TBC**

**A/N:** Oh _**biscuits**_ and _**ferrets**_.

~Phoenyxx


	8. 08: Rules

**Take Eight: **Rules (And the Importance of the Rule Book)

* * *

It was a September Wednesday, a day just as wet and dreary as yesterday's Tuesday. However, there was a marked difference in _where _it started. Instead of wandering the hallways much like a lonely black sheep, he entered and lingered near the entrance of the Headmaster's office for the preordained afternoon (actually, brunch) tea. Without a word, he positioned himself against a wall directly across from the wizard reading the Daily Prophet.

Tick_-TOCK. _Tick_-TOCK. _Tick-_TOCK._

Current state of affairs outside included lightning-bearing clouds and precipitation. From the view presented by the lattice window, he concluded that the amount of water outside was bordering _Water Country levels_. Far off near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he could see the Keeper of the Key's hut, a flickering light within the confines of the building.

Pocketing his hands, he brushed the folded note crumpled in his left pocket. Dumbledore's tea invitation rested uncomfortably against his thigh as one of its folded edges poked him time and time again whenever he shifted his position. Naturally, he didn't show his discomfort; rather, he invested his energies into _thinking_.

Now why would Professor McGonagall transfigure the parchment paper so that whenever it was folded, the edges would be extra hard and angular?

The elderly wizard sitting behind his desk peered at him as he set down his newspaper to grab his floral-decorated tea cup by the ear. He returned the blue-eyed stare and after a tense moment, Dumbledore saluted him with his chinaware.

As a good little shinobi of Leaf, he nodded in acknowledgement. Nevertheless, with a healthy dose of cynicism, he continued his previous train of thought and pondered. Maybe it wasn'tMcGonagall and instead Dumbledore secretly yanking his proverbial chain to tell him off.

_Bad dog._

But what did he do to warrant that…?

Head tilted backwards, Kakashi snorted, quickly dismissing his ridiculous notions since such a spiteful, harming action did not pattern with his observations of the man. What he really needed to do instead of entertaining silly thoughts was to defeat his insomnia and take a nap after this meeting to chase away his paranoia.

(He still dreamt about open grand hallways and locked double doors and blood and swirling shadows and piles of books upon books upon books-)

The sound of fine bone china clinking lightly on a dish echoed hollowly in the room. Licking his dry lips at the sight of the Earl Grey tea, he shifted again as Dumbledore stared at him knowingly. Perhaps he really was growing soft as an inactive shinobi if he could let such a small annoyance, like a piece of paper continuously prodding his skin, bother him.

A sigh followed the restless twitch. The phoenix perched on the roost by his shoulder appeared to think him interesting as clever, wise, gleaming eyes examined him.

Fawkes trilled softly. "Drroo?"

Kakashi pursed his lips behind the eggplant purple scarf, black eyebrows contracting downwards. A single grey eye gazed at the mythical bird, taking note of the lovely vibrant red plumage veined with phosphorescent fire.

The symbol of eternity must have seen _something_ in him because the avian creature shuffled even closer to his shoulder, whistling softly when his feathers brushed the ninja's shoulder.

Dumbledore watched the exchange with interest and finally addressed the man loitering in his office. "It seems, my _shinobi_ friend, that Fawkes is concerned."

"I'm fine." The jounin brushed back his ill-fitting scraggly black hair, a bit embarrassed by the attention.

"Please. Take a seat," said Dumbledore, waving a hand towards a bright yellow chair across from his desk. "I feel uncomfortable having my guest stand during tea."

Kakashi read behind his words, fishing out the real tone in the meaning. _Sit boy_. He resisted sniping back with a rude 'yes _sir_' by reminding himself that Dumbledore wasn't an enemy.

No. It was the entire _situation_ that was the enemy and the fact that his month and a half of research wasn't research at all. There was a vast amount of basic material that he had yet to learn and this information was essential in understanding the more refined and detailed aspects of wizarding knowledge. Honestly, he made good headway through the materials but he estimated that he needed at least a few more weeks before he could really start researching.

It also didn't help knowing that the '_Mangekyou Sharingan_' would most likely _never _be found in these books or be referred to as such if the author of the book somehow miraculously escaped a beheading by the Uchiha clan and Konoha ANBU. Clan secrets tended to stay with the clan, which was the main reason why he was still struggling to puzzle out the elusive ability.

Dumbledore poured a second cup of tea and pushed it towards Kakashi. Steam and aroma drifted enticingly from the china cup and the shinobi finally relented and took his seat.

* * *

The grandfatherly old man was by no means _senile_ as he was eccentric. After reminding the shinobi of several ground rules that also appeared in the initial mission scroll – including 'No _destructive_ ninja arts on school ground' – Dumbledore took a long draught from his tea.

His hired shinobi had, understandably, retained the expression of a rock during the conversation. There were no emotional changes whatsoever when he reaffirmed the conditions to the mission parameters.

Kakashi never forgot the boundaries. Never forgot the rules. Dumbledore approved.

He knew that most ninja associated with villages were honour-bound folk with a strong sense of mission loyalties. He also knew that the elite ninja were strong – strong in character and in their beliefs – and because of this, political disagreements often led to strife across the lands. And so the Hidden Nations, for all their true and fake togetherness in clan and village factions, was a place where normal wizards didn't trespass due to the risk of involvement in these large scale conflicts and wars. Even Voldemort during his violent power struggle and reign did not tap into this 'resource' because he viewed them as 'half-breed, barbaric mudbloods with no concept of finesse'. He also thought that they were already doing a fine job killing themselves off with wars.

But the Headmaster thought differently from the wizarding population. He harmlessly kept track of the Elemental Countries with curious eyes, watching their societies rise and fall, exist and die. Contacts told him what he needed to know and a magical chrysalis ball visually detailed the rest.

So imagine his surprise when he realized that, no, he was never the only one watching; _he_ was also being watched.

When the Godaime Hokage of Konohagakure took her place as leader, she informed him kindly by the way of hawk that her ANBU Hunters and Interrogators captured one of his contacts five months back and could you _please explain this inordinate collection of miscellaneous information_.

In other words, _why are you collecting crap information about us that's absolutely useless to you _and_ me_?

Dumbledore obliged by the way of phoenix and gave her a carefully worded note that could be summarized by a sentence: _the Hidden Nations are fascinating so humour the harmless old coot_.

Shrewd, Tsunade-sama, as she liked to be addressed, responded with an interesting proposal. _I will as long as I could send someone of my choice to examine your culture and take notes too. Otherwise. _

There was perfect understanding in what that _otherwise_ meant. For the greater good of collecting knowledge, Dumbledore reluctantly agreed and a false mission was penned out, signed by both parties. The 'mission' detailed that the client needed one person to inspire teamwork and unity onto the students for the upcoming Triwizard Tournament. Dumbledore mused that this, perhaps, worked out quite well. Not only would his students have a better appreciation of each other, but because of the high frequency of unfortunate events that are usually associated with this tournament, he could garner a second opinion on situations from the point of view of a ninja. It also helped his cause further when Tsunade decided to send an _experienced_ shinobi, a man he could observe and hopefully learn from.

In turn, Dumbledore was to give a standard A-rank mission fee as well as to bestow full hospitality to her shinobi and allow him to research to his heart's content.

(Tsunade was not lying when she said that this was arranged for Kakashi's benefit too.)

The renowned medic also warned that regular missions would be issued to her soldier and it would be best not to be involved. Dumbledore understood the quiet threat and promised not to snoop if they promised not to implicate or harm his students and contacts. Tsunade readily agreed to this, as civilians – even ones with magical powers – were not on their hit lists. Of course, she then offhandedly mentioned that it would be nice not to drag her shinobi into the political mire of magical society, which seemed impossible for Dumbledore now. He couldn't stop the Ministry from their meddling but at least Kakashi was handling the situation well – better than expected, even.

(In all actuality, Tsunade wasn't 'protecting' Kakashi from the politicians; it was the other way around. Even she heard of his infamous incident in the Land of Lightning and she wasn't anywhere _near_ Lightning or Konoha at the time but in the back of a smoky gambling den out in Wave…)

Setting down his tea cup, Dumbledore asked brightly, "Do you have any questions?"

"No." It was a brisk answer.

There was brief peace when the Headmaster took a drink before he asked kindly, "And your arm…?" Dumbledore stared at the livid bruise on his companion's forehead a bit longer than necessary.

The single grey eye seemed to flicker, giving him a plain look. A brittle humour was in his voice as he shrugged. "I've had much worse."

Stroking his white beard, Dumbledore leaned back in his seat. "That wound was for one of your missions, wasn't it?"

The carefully blank look told the Headmaster all he needed to know.

"Yes, I am aware, Mr. Hatake, of what goes on within these ancient castle walls and on the school grounds." With his rested fingers, Dumbledore tapped a few bars of Vivaldi L'estate movement three on the arm of his chair. "But enough of that! How has your planning been?"

Kakashi sat loosely in his seat, legs crossed at his ankles. "On-going."

"Will I need to prepare for another riot?" asked Dumbledore serenely.

"Maybe." The shinobi seemed to pause before 'smiling'. "Professor, I'm sure you're aware that I don't like tradition much…"

"Untraditional and unorthodox," mumbled the elder wizard, eyes bright with laughter. "I hope what you are planning is interesting for the students."

"…I don't know about that."

"Now you're just being modest, Mr. Hatake."

Slouching further in his seat, he hummed. "I wouldn't call the plan interesting. The students will be the fascinating subjects though."

"And you've been studying them since the sorting ceremony."

"I have."

Dumbledore sipped his tea and spoke candidly over the rim, "Well Mr. Hatake, I think you would be interested in knowing that Minerva has a class this morning with a group of promising Ravenclaw third years."

Kakashi raised a careful eyebrow but all the same bobbed his head in acknowledgement of the implication. The Headmaster knew that Minerva, if she ever found out that he had set Hatake up against her, would be most unimpressed.

(Sometimes, Dumbledore wondered. If not him, who did the staff think aided Kakashi in his initial 'quest for acceptance'?)

Yes, old man Dumbledore was by no means senile as he was eccentric. He had a streak of abnormal amusement in planting challenges for his trusted staff to overcome – challenges such as a man named Kakashi Hatake.

If asked _why_, he would say that they needed to be kept on their toes, which was also the reason why he admired Moody's roar of 'Constant Vigilance!'.

Moody and Hatake. _Constant Vigilance for all_.

* * *

Rubbing the back of his neck to rid the strange prickling sensation, Kakashi stopped in front of a closed classroom entrance. He could hear McGonagall inside this room, lecturing about needles and cutlery. Next, the sound of silverware cascading onto a desk echoed out into the hallway before the murmuring of working students reached his ears.

He took that opportunity to knock on McGonagall's classroom door. A hush fell like a blanket.

McGonagall said primly, "Come in."

Easing the door open, he was greeted by McGonagall's scowling visage. He pretended to cringe and gingerly held his arm in an absent gesture of phantom pain because he wasn't Kakashi Hatake, elite jounin of the Hidden Leaf, anymore. No, he was now simply Kakashi Hatake, the 'squib' desk jockey-turned-cultural representative of a country that he had never heard of nor visited before in his life.

The Professor continued to look daggers at him. The students gawked at him. He played along and greeted, "Hello class. Professor McGonagall."

The Transfiguration Professor clicked her tongue, smelling a plot afoot. "What brings you here Mr. Hatake? I hope you are aware that you're interrupting my class."

"My apologies." _Not really._ Kakashi inched into the room with McGonagall giving him a berth. He grinned and stated with artificial cheer, "But…I would like to sit and listen in your class."

Taking a moment, McGonagall adjusted her glasses and commented, "…And you didn't think to ask me earlier?"

"I just came from tea with Professor Dumbledore."

The shinobi knew that McGonagall was a smart woman and could easily read into that statement for what it was.

_Dumbledore directed me here._

Almost an afterthought, Kakashi seemed to give her a peace offering. "I'll even stay quiet?"

Kakashi lip-read. "_Of course_ you promise to be quiet…" McGonagall muttered under her breath resentfully. She sighed, "Very well, Mr. Hatake. Take a seat at the front here."

Amidst the whispering and cautious ogling from the students, Kakashi nodded and sat at the directed seat. That docile action was met by McGonagall's suspicious gaze but she did not comment on his behaviour.

Instead she overlooked him and went back into her role as Professor of Transfiguration.

And so, the shinobi sat complacently during the lesson as a mostly ignored audience member by McGonagall and a strange zoo creature by the studying students. Of course, those with straying attention (the ones studying _him _and not the Transfiguration material) didn't last long in the face of the elder witch's ire.

As fascinating as turning forks into pins was, Kakashi was among the fidgety students glad that the class ended. With mild fanfare, the students stormed out and McGonagall closed the door after them. She then circled her desk before standing in front of it, all the while watching him.

Body language hawk-like, McGonagall peered over her square spectacles and down her nose at him. "Surely you have elsewhere to be."

Leaning into his creaking seat, Kakashi twirled a successfully transfigured pin between his fingers and said, "Not really."

The witch's expression was unreadable. "And you'll be staying for the next class?"

"Maybe."

McGonagall didn't say a word and only gazed at him imperiously before turning away. Kakashi watched on, fascinated, when she also blatantly disregarded the students noisily loitering at the closed classroom door.

Tartan robes swishing at her feet, McGonagall instead faced the chalkboard and _changed_.

Kakashi's eyebrows climbed.

In her place was a tabby cat with remarkable markings around the eyes. With grace belying her age, the cat leapt onto the desk, bright healthy eyes looking at him intently.

He found his voice. "Well. That's new." Kakashi blinked, surprised. _"…So that's how an animagi transformation looks like."_

The feline must have noticed his shock because she then _smirked_ smugly at him, tail flicking. Tilting her head condescendingly, the transformed witch pointed at the door.

_Ah._

Giving her furry paw a fleeting look, he gamely ambled towards the door and flung it open. The knob hit the adjacent wall with a loud _bang_. The Gryffindor first years on the other side jumped and gave him wide-eyed, astonished looks.

_Silence_…and then murmurs broke free like ripples in water.

One of the braver younglings piped up, "Excuse me sir…but isn't this the Transfiguration classroom?"

Kakashi stared at her until she fidgeted fretfully; he said monotonously, "It is."

A few heads tried to crane past his body blocking the entrance. One of the boys, the one who he remembered had taken a dip in the Great Lake on his first day, hollered out loudly, "Then where's Professor McGonagall?"

"Who's to say I'm not teaching Transfiguration for the day?" quipped Kakashi.

The joke came out flat. From within the room, McGonagall hissed. The students' expressions grew even more bewildered.

Kakashi gave them his patented smile. "Inside." He then moved out of the way and entered. The children followed him in like lost ducklings.

Observing the students as they settled into their seats, the shinobi leaned against the desk beside the perched, attentive cat. He made a show of asking the feline during the ruckus, "And you do this every year?"

McGonagall stood up and paced the desk, letting out a short '_mrow_'.

"Hm. Fun."

A lengthy hush stretched for several minutes. The children fidgeted in their seats until one of their classmates couldn't contain themselves and asked again, "So where's the Prof.?"

The witch-turned-cat gave him a rather pointed look. Taking the hint, Kakashi didn't answer the child and instead waved a merry goodbye and left the premises.

Behind him, he could hear the classroom he left erupt into sudden 'oooh's, 'ahhh's, and applause.

"_Add to chart: Minerva McGonagall likes to show off once in awhile."_

* * *

"I hear you're making rounds in the classrooms."

Tugging lightly at his cucumber green scarf, Kakashi responded, "I am." He didn't look up. "And good Thursday morning, Professor Moody."

"…Morning, Mr. Hatake." The vacant chair on his left was pulled with a loud, protesting screech and with a rustle of clothing, Moody sat down. His magical eye spun in its socket, eying the food on the tables.

Using half of his attention in reading the second year Transfiguration textbook, Kakashi waited and his patience was rewarded when-

"Why the visits?"

The shinobi murmured, "Because."

Moody reprimanded gruffly, "That isn't much of an answer."

"True," agreed Kakashi mildly, turning another leaf of the book.

The ex-Auror spooned some scrambled eggs onto his plate and added bluntly, "I'm watching you."

Kakashi _knew_ that already. He could feel it even now as the tiny hairs on the back of his neck raised in anticipation. "Good to know." A not so offbeat grin.

With _deliberate offense_, the heavily scarred man released a short, harsh chuckle. "Is it?"

And with _deliberate humour_, Kakashi finally faced Moody. "I have to know my enemies and friends and _neutral parties_, after all. It's me versus them."

"Aye. You think me a neutral party? I guess…" Moody grinned wickedly, "Since you're not forthcoming with the answers, someone has to investigate."

"And you're giving me the heads up."

"It's only _fair_." He chewed the word out in mock. "The other professors delight me with stories about your adventures." There was a subtle smirk when he held back the words he heard from several others, '_and Hatake's_ _not all together_ there_, if you know what I mean_'.

Kakashi closed the textbook and said, composed, "Very well. Fair is fair. I _am_ watching you and everyone else…But you already knew that, right?"

Moody didn't counter his statement. Instead he drank from his hipflask.

Kakashi sneezed.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor then said, "The Unforgivable curses."

"The Unforgivables?" The shinobi did come across them during his research. "What about them?"

"The Gryffindor fourth years will have a demonstration of these curses this afternoon."

He took the not so subtle hint and responded blithely, "I _was_ thinking of Potions this morning but it appears Professor Snape is avoiding me like the black bubonic plague-"

Moody abruptly got up from his seat, both eyes trained on his person. "Ten minutes before one this afternoon, Mr. Hatake."

* * *

And so Thursday afternoon began with Kakashi walking alongside Moody to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Admittedly more than he was willing to confess, he was curious about the new Professor, the new unknown in Hogwarts, since there had been bare minimal interaction so far and few impressions made.

Consequently he took up his offer to observe his class – well that and he could see the three spells touted as most severely punishable for in wizarding arts.

Moody entered the eerily quiet classroom first and Kakashi followed him in half a step later. The normally rowdy Gryffindors were surprisingly well-behaved and diligently patient as Moody stomped towards his desk and sat down.

Kakashi slipped into a seat in the front corner of the classroom.

"Put those books away. We're not using them today," growled the Professor.

And like synchronized dancing, there was unison shuffling, opening bags, and disappearing books into folding cloth. Kakashi made a noise at the back of his throat – an aborted, probably inappropriate, snigger; his neck prickled again.

Moody started with roll calling, eyes lingering on the individuals. Kakashi also kept notes.

Another_ Weasley? Unmistakeable red hair. How many siblings did Charlie have? And…Harry Potter? Where did he come across that name before…? _

When the final students were called out, Moody immediately went into the thick of his lesson, pointing out flaws in the students' knowledge. He concluded that they needed to catch up on curses and other Dark arts and what better way to start than to demonstrate the Unforgivable curses?

The students were held at rapt attention.

"Illegal curses. Those aren't usually demonstrated until you're in sixth year but Dumbledore has a higher opinion of you lot." Moody paused and smiled creepily. "He's given me permission to show you what criminals might do to you without warning. Unknown curses fired at you without care. Never nice. Never respectful."

This time Kakashi did chortle inappropriately, though only briefly, because Moody had his uncanny eye on him again.

The Professor soldiered on. "So tell me, can anyone name the curses most heavily punished by wizarding law."

Several hands shot up. Moody chose the Weasley child.

He spoke haltingly, "My dad mentioned the Imperius curse once."

"Ah the Imperius." Moody paused and appraised the child sitting at the front. "You're one of Arthur Weasley's, aren't you?"

The boy nodded. Kakashi took note of the patriarch's name to the Weasley progeny.

"Yes, of course Arthur would know of that little trouble curse…" Moody, with heavy steps, walked to the side of his desk and opened a secret drawer. He withdrew a jar housing three raisin-sized arachnids.

Kakashi studied with interest when the Weasley child paled. Beside him, the girl and Potter watched on, curious. The rest of the class held their breaths in anticipation.

Moody selected one of the scampering, skidding spiders with a firm hand and let it fall onto the desk. With a blue eye trained on Kakashi, Moody revealed his wand and muttered gruffly, "_Imperio!_"

The effect was instantaneous. He observed passively how Moody manipulated the spider to do unnatural feats – twisting in midair by a thin string of web and doing cartwheels along the desk.

The children laughed until Moody silenced them with a heavy statement, "Funny, isn't it? It won't be so funny then, if this was done to you."

In the new humbled silence of the room, Kakashi murmured, "Total control."

The students flickered uneasy eyes at him. Moody nodded, appreciative that someone understood the dire consequences of the spell.

Kakashi continued, voice stronger, "You could command them to do actions. Betray friends. Commit crimes. Eliminate themselves from the picture…"

As one, he could see the students shudder. Moody continued from where he left off, "But this doesn't have to happen. If you have a strong enough character, the Imperius curse _can_ be fought! And why get hit when you can avoid? CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

The students startled like napping cats. Kakashi almost rolled his eyes at the pep talk.

Replacing the spider back into the jar, Moody growled, "Next curse."

Again, several hands shot up and Moody selected a child that skittishly avoided the Professor's gaze. Growing pink, the boy said with a small, but strong, voice, "The…The Cruciatus curse."

Kakashi remembered seeing that boy at the Greenhouses. Moody questioned, "You're Longbottom?"

Longbottom nodded. Moody grimly selected another spider and let it scamper onto the desk. "For the Cruciatus curse, the spider needs to be bigger for the…demonstration."

With a well placed _Engorgio_ spell, the spider increased into the size of a small baseball. The Weasley suffering from arachnophobia hurriedly moved his desk backwards, away from his fear. Moody paid him no mind and grunted, "_Crucio!_"

When the spell hit, the spider curled up in itself, twitching and rocking. Being closer than the students, Kakashi could see the eight eyes convulsing at random intervals. Morbidly, he imagined that if the spider had vocal cords, there would be deafening screeches and screams accompanying this display of agony.

He also wondered how well this compared against _genjutsu_-based torture…

"Stop it!"

The shrill, distressed voice interrupted his line of thought. The girl who sat beside Weasley and Potter was staring at Longbottom, worrying her lower lip.

Longbottom. White knuckles. Dilated eyes. Excessive perspiration. Rigid muscles. Harsh breathing.

_Trauma_. He could recognize the signs a mile away and it appeared that Moody did too because he released the spell a heartbeat later.

Longbottom eased, boneless, into his seat again, face red and eyes squeezed shut.

A _Reducio_ and the spider shrunk back to its normal size. Replacing the insect into the jar, Moody spoke, "Indescribable pain that doesn't mark the body. Doesn't leave messes. It was quite popular back in the day."

"Any other curse?"

Kakashi saw only one hand raised. It was the girl again.

She whispered, "_Avada Kedavra_."

A few students shifted in their seats, uncomfortable and nervous. Their Mediator murmured audibly, "The killing curse."

Moody took out the last spider, letting it scuttle down his hand and onto the wood grain desk where it stayed. He echoed, "Yes, the killing curse. There's no counter curse or way to block the spell. Only one person was ever recorded in surviving this and he's sitting right here, in front of me."

Potter seemed to sink into his seat. Kakashi _remembered_. Voldemort. Potter. Killing curse.

Without flourish, the ex-Auror pointed his wand, both eyes trained on the defenceless spider, and roared, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

The jounin could feel the ripple of power siphoning from the wizard and into the wand. He carefully opened his left eye to a slit, exposing the Sharingan discreetly. Curious. Pure energy converged from the tip of the wand in a delicate pattern before it was released as a torrential emerald beam.

The green energy didn't miss the target and managed to engulf the entirety of the spider. If he had the Byakugan, he would have seen the Eight Chakra Gates shattered and the energy core smothered and consumed by the overwhelming clout of the spell. But the Byakugan wasn't necessary here. He could _feel_ it – the before and after of the spell.

No chakra.

And no chakra meant death.

Kakashi closed his eyes.

…

During the lesson when the students were studiously copying down notes from the chalkboard, he could feel his senses tingling. Scanning his surroundings while using his book like a shield, he spotted Moody's outstretched hand and his wicked grin.

An enlarged spider. Flying towards him. (Damn Moody and his _Constant Vigilance_.)

He couldn't very well dodge the insect with his shinobi reflex because that would give him away. So what he did was the next best thing.

Fake it.

With a slow two second reaction time, he leaned down and a distinct splat was heard above his head. (The students gasped.) With a sleight of hand, he appeared to pick up a Sickle sitting innocuously on the floor by his chair's leg.

Tossing the local currency up and down with one hand, Kakashi grinned, eye curving, and speculated out loud, "I wonder who could be so careless as to drop money on the floor."

Moody let his hand fall to his side, the lines on his face deep. He laughed throatily. "It must be your lucky day." With a smirk that further pulled at his deformities, Moody said, "And that, class, is a good example of constant vigilance. It appears that Mr. Hatake is not paying attention at all but he is. Isn't that right?"

A glint appeared in the ex-Auror's eye. _No one can appear that oblivious._

Kakashi clenched the Sickle in his hand tightly but bantered, "I haven't a clue of what you're talking about, Professor. All I saw was something shiny on the floor and decided to take a closer look."

Moody's electric blue eye spun. "Yes. I saw that too." He noticed that the students were enraptured by their strange conversation; the Professor then commented, "I heard from Filius that you can walk on walls."

"Walk on _walls_?" shouted one of the Gryffindor students, flabbergasted.

There were fervent murmurs of 'how'.

"With magic maybe…?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Kakashi deflected the shock with a hesitant laugh. "Oh there must be some mistake. I can't use magic to walk on walls. I'm a squib."

_That_ statement caught even more attention.

"You're a _SQUIB_?"

…

Before Kakashi left the classroom, he placed the Sickle warmed by his hand onto the desk.

"_Nice test. Nice try."_

Oh, he knew what Moody wanted and what he didn't get. Because even now, Moody still didn't understand why he needed to lure the students into a false sense of security with his 'I'm a weakling, lovable teacher; go easy on me' act…And he was happy to keep it that way – until Saturday, at least.

But he had to admit that he'll need to make a second note on Moody.

"_Add to chart: Alastor Moody is more observant than some of his colleagues. Must watch out for him."_

* * *

Friday rolled around the corner and landed in a spectacular belly flop. Earlier that week, Kakashi had planned to attend Flitwick's advanced charms class but decided against it. He had ample information on Flitwick already and he didn't think he could deal with another roomful of rowdy Slytherin teenagers for two more hours.

(Not to mention the news that he was, by their standards, a squib caught like _wildfire_.)

So instead, he spent most of that day composing his mission report and planning for tomorrow…

* * *

"…E'rl light reveal'd upon skies of east'rn morn'."

_A Guide to Medieval Sorcery_

* * *

Only the wan sliver of moonlight splashed over the landscape as the stars and other celestial bodies were hidden behind the grey clouds. The Forbidden Forest breathed life in this blanket of silence and within its protective borders, Hogwarts gleamed like a lonely slate jewel bedded on sable velvet.

On top of the castle armaments near the sky piercing Ravenclaw tower stood several figures. Kakashi listened to the rise and fall of the sleeping world, scenting moss, leaves, and the undertones of the approaching icy autumn. Behind him, one of his companions whined, sound dying with the breeze.

Moving his fingers, he used the old ANBU codes to relay what he wanted. And so, with their mission objectives at hand, the nindogs scattered to their designated targets.

* * *

There was ruckus. There was barking. There was a crazy looking dog sitting at the bottom of the common room stairwell.

Several Slytherins who were awakened by the dog frowned at the animal with severe disapproval.

"_Seriously_! It's not even six in the morning yet!"

The prefect crossed her arms and asked, "Isn't that one of the foreigner's mutts?"

Disregarding their hostile behaviour, he spat Kakashi's missive onto her face. Guruko's tail thumped happily. The girl _screamed_ shrilly.

He howled a, ('mission complete!'), and left in a cloud of dust.

* * *

"No…_Noooo_…I hate…cold fish…Fish is cold…" whimpered the supposed target.

Pakkun growled and with his paw, he smacked the kid on the face again. ("Wake up!")

The Hufflepuff tossed his head to the other side, dislodging the dog sitting on the coverlets of his bed.

With a low snarl, Pakkun righted himself and let loose a loud bark. All of the sixth year occupants in the room jolted awake by the menacing sound; there was one who even fell off his mattress.

Several candles lighted.

"…What's going on?" muttered Cedric Diggory around a yawn.

("Stupid, lumpy, ignorant brats…") complained Pakkun grumpily, not that he expected the wizards to understand him. ("You even look the same!")

Another Hufflepuff teen rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and pointed, "It's a dog…"

"Isn't that…Mr. Hatake's dog?" asked the boy to the far left of the room, eyes squinting.

The nindog sighed and leapt onto the correct bed this time - the prefect's bed - much to Cedric's puzzlement.

"He-Hey! Down boy!"

Rolling his eyes, Pakkun dropped Kakashi's message on top of the bed covers and disappeared in a swirl of smoke.

* * *

Eyes half-mast, Bisuke stared at the prefect of Gryffindor, willing her to wake up.

She obviously didn't.

Her friend however did, screeching like a banshee when she saw 'the shadow of the dangerous Grim looming over poor defenceless Amelia'. In reflex, she threw a pillow at the 'Grim' only to miss.

Bisuke had already departed, leaving behind the memo in the dissipating smoke.

* * *

Akino was perhaps the most successful with the Ravenclaws because he managed to herd both prefects into the common room by stealing their blankets.

"Get back here you-you-you-_bed defiler_!" hollered the female prefect.

Shortly afterwards, her male counterpart grumbled, "_Mon dieu_! He got you too?"

Converging, the two teens leapt down the stairs and circled the dog holding their bedspreads hostage.

"On the count of three," commanded the female Ravenclaw. "Three…Two-!"

Black glasses flashing, Akino took a step back and disappeared. He made sure to visibly leave Kakashi's note for them to read.

* * *

Dear Hogwarts students,

Six AM. Quidditch Field. I'll be expecting all of you to be present.

And don't forget. Be on time!

Humbly yours, your prestigious Mediator,

Kakashi Hatake

* * *

It was early – 'nearing the break of dawn' early – Saturday morning. Six AM, to be exact. Kakashi was sitting in the stands of the Quidditch Field, taking note of the students trudging onto the spacious sports ground. His scarf was a sunny cauliflower yellow that seemed to mock the 'early birds' with its reflection of bright liveliness.

Obviously, the students who did show up were not very happy at all but he skilfully, through many years of practice, ignored the grumpy faces.

"Hmmm…"

Unsurprisingly, there were only two or three Slytherins who deigned to show up. The Hufflepuffs didn't fare any better as their numbers were perhaps only ten strong, if not less. As for the Gryffindors, they had a similar turn out as the Hufflepuffs; their group loitered near the edge of the field, looking longingly at the tower housing their beds.

It was the Ravenclaws who surprised him the most.

The Ravenclaw prefects had perhaps more than half of their students lined up within the pitch. However, some were shooting awfully annoyed looks at their student leaders while the others appeared resigned.

When everyone settled, he stood up from his seat. "Good morning everyone." His voice effectively stalled all conversation. The students grumbled out their versions of 'good morning'.

Kakashi smiled, "I see not everyone is here."

There was more grumbling and one of the Slytherins, perhaps a prefect, yelled out, "What's going on?"

The shinobi pulled open '_A Guide to Medieval Sorcery' _and recited, "E'rl light reveal'd upon skies of east'rn morn'."

More murmurs and whispers were shared amongst the students.

"What…?"

"I don't get it."

Kakashi slipped the book into his pocket again and explained plainly, "I recently found this interesting archaic rule dictating that students were to wake up at the break of dawn or face consequences. And then I thought to myself, so why not choose a Saturday to try this early morning exercise?"

"What?"

"Complete bollocks!"

"Thank you for coming. You may go now," dismissed Kakashi rudely.

Complaints ratcheted upwards and beyond as the students glared at their Mediator. However, not that they knew at the time, it was only the 'lull to a violent storm'.

Pocketing his hands, Kakashi thought back. He had recently made a head count on the number of students in each House and just counted the number of students who did show up to his impromptu gathering.

Now he wondered…How many deducted House points would that be if it's five points off for every respective student who _didn't_ show up?

* * *

And so that morning, the student body finally figured out the answer to their question: what does a Mediator do? They realized that he didn't really need to do anything other than exist and be a pest. They also found out, in a 'much too late' fashion, that the foreign man had a lot of power – power that he had no qualms in abusing.

* * *

The mostly angry students gave the Professors a wide, wide berth.

"_Negative _two hundred twenty House points?" gasped McGonagall.

"Breathe, Minerva, breathe," soothed Sprout, rubbing her arm gently. She smiled weakly, "I'm in the same boat as you too. Negative two hundred fifty for the Hufflepuffs."

"But…But…"

Snape snarled, "Who."

The two women flinched sympathetically when they saw the Slytherin House points listed at negative three hundred ten.

Flitwick rubbed his glasses with the end of his shirt before putting them back on fretfully. He peered at the jewel hourglass again. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear…What could have happened overnight?"

"I think this prudent question should be asked by us, Filius," said McGonagall sharply, eyes calculating.

After all, Ravenclaw was ahead with two hundred fifty-five House points.

Their Charms Professor wavered. "It wasn't me!"

"Placing Ravenclaw up two hundred points in four days since the start of class is impressive," murmured Snape coolly. "But seeing the rest of the Houses at negative values is unacceptable."

"Now now, Professor Snape," chided a new arrival. Kakashi inched beside the entrance of the adjoined hallway, blasé. "Don't point fingers without evidence."

It was as if a candle was suddenly lit.

McGonagall snapped, "I should have known!"

"I'm sure the Slytherins, Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors will have their points back in no time," dismissed Kakashi.

"I can't believe this…" frowned Sprout disapprovingly.

Snape clenched his teeth together. "You-"

"-What happened, Mr. Hatake, that could cause you to deduct so many points?"

It was Headmaster Dumbledore intervening the escalating squabble.

Kakashi shared a secret grin with his inquisitive client and said, "As you British would say, let's talk this over a cup of tea."

* * *

**TBC**

**A/N:** You're probably thinking, 'omg he _didn't_!'. Well I'm here to tell you that 'omg he did! :D'.

Yes sir and/or madam. That's negative house points for you.

Now. What are our scheming Hogwartians to do?

**Edit:** Thank you for pointing out the whole confusion with Head Boy/Head Girl/Prefect-thing _Nims Dias-angelovdarkness_. Much appreciated! :)

~Phoenyxx


	9. Scene Nine and Three Quarters

**A Day with the Nindogs**

**Scene Nine and Three-Quarters: **What Goes Around Comes Around Every Year

* * *

_(About Two Months Ago…)_

"What do you think of this place, Pakkun?"

The pug looked up at his master and summed it up with one word. "Strange."

"Oh?"

Gruffly he explained, "We've been on a lot of missions together, Kakashi, but this has to take the cake as the strangest yet."

"Hmm." The ninja was admittedly a bit unsettled by the constant sudden movements seen at the periphery of his vision. "Moving people in pictures _are_ new."

"You don't say," snorted the dog. "I just don't like these hallways. There's not enough room to move around. If this route didn't smell so good, I'd be walking away from here."

The shinobi sniffed the air. "I think we're closing in."

Pakkun grunted, "Just down those stairs…"

The two of them continued along until they stopped at a large, wall-length portrait depicting a bowl of fruit.

"So the room is hidden behind this picture," murmured Kakashi, staring the oil portrait up and down. In his hand, he twirled a kunai, debating on whether or not to forcefully remove it off the wall.

Would that be considered as damaging school property?

Pakkun growled at his heels impatiently, "You want me to try and yank it off the wall, boss?"

"I'd rather not deal with a squished pug."

The canine bristled indignantly. "I'll have you know that I'm faster than-!"

"-I know." Letting his pug grumble, Kakashi tilted his head. "Now let's see…"

Feeling the edges of the portrait, the ninja decided to use strength to try and remove the picture. He carefully wedged the weapon into the small gap between the wall and portrait and applied brunt force.

The picture creaked gloomily.

He stopped. "Hmm…"

"Maybe more force?" suggested Pakkun.

A loud crack erupted from behind them.

("Sir! Dobby…Dobby does not think that is a good idea!")

Alert, ninja reflexes kicked in and Kakashi almost allowed the kunai in his hand loose. However, he managed to hold fast at the last moment, recalling that he was at _school_ again – which was a laugh, considering how he avoided them for near twenty-three years.

_(Bad childhood memories, _he would say with a wistful smile.)

Kakashi paused. Pakkun stared.

("Sirs?")

The almost humanoid creature addressing them was undersized and barely reached past his knee. He was clothed in a rather fetching clean white toga matched with a pair of bizarre patchwork socks on his feet. On one of his bat-like ears dangled a plum coloured ladies glove. Aside from the outlandish taste in clothing, the creature did not resemble anything they have seen before. He had a long pointed nose and large bulbous eyes with a very skinny, angular, underfed frame.

Pakkun eyed the house elf, a tad mystified. "I think a molding prune is talking to us boss."

Kakashi ignored his rude pug. ("Not a good idea? What do you suggest then?")

Dobby quivered, eyes trained on the sharp-looking triangle knife. A long drawn out silence followed.

The ninja, noticing the reaction, casually pocketed his kunai. He then eye-smiled. ("Well?")

("You're asking Dobby, sir?") squeaked Dobby, approaching bit by bit now that the knife disappeared.

("Yes, I am asking Dob – you.")

("Dobby is very flattered sirs!") Slowly, the house elf gave them a very eager-to-please grin. ("Dobby suggests that you tickle the pear, sir.")

("Tickle the pear…?")

* * *

And the rest (as humans liked to say) were history.

Kakashi and his pack managed to get their own meals at the kitchens now, a fact that Headmaster Dumbledore was never terribly pleased about. He believed that it was essential for the staff members to share meals at the table so as to promote staff unity. Nonetheless, he magnanimously allowed them not to eat with the others, if only to prevent the bullying.

From which party, he wouldn't say. Dumbledore only smiled pleasantly enough, and Pakkun, ever loyal, almost told him to 'Stuff it. I get it. Kakashi's really not _that_ bad you know'.

It was almost like the Headmaster could read his mind when he said, "I know, Pakkun. Just try not to harass the house elves…"

* * *

("Sorry sirs but Dobby don't understand what you means,") said Dobby nervously, wringing the tea towel in his hands over and over again.

Pakkun sighed and barked out for the umpteenth time against the clueless face. "Cake! Cake! Cake you walking, batty prune!"

Dobby looked ready to burst into tears. ("Sirs, Dobby don't understand!")

"What should we do now?" asked Uhei. "We need someone to translate the word 'cake' for us."

"We can't ask Kakashi," said Akino, glasses flashing. "That would defeat the purpose."

"Can't he eat _steak _or _meatballs_? _Steak_ is good. Very good," whined Shiba.

Dobby perked up, hearing the familiar words. ("Steak? Meatballs? Dobby can make!")

("No!") That was another word Pakkun learned in the past hour. ("No!")

("But sirs…")

"Stop giving him ideas Shiba," growled the pug. "We want cake! _Dobby_. Cake. Cake. Cake!"

Dobby's eyes widened dramatically. ("Dobby…Dobby is bad. Bad Dobby! Not understanding sirs.") The poor house elf nearly rammed his head against the burning hot oven if not for Bull tugging at his tiny fitted toga. He pulled the house elf away from the kitchen appliance, preventing further self-harm.

("Nooo-!")

Eying the distraught house elf, Pakkun sighed again, "We need a plan."

The dogs thought for a moment. Uhei brightened, "We can draw a picture of a cake."

Akino agreed. "That's a good idea."

"Yes, yes, yes," grinned Shiba.

"But who…?" asked Uhei.

A loud snore interrupted their conversation. All eyes turned and found Bisuke, sleeping by the fireplace…

* * *

"Why am I doing this again?" drawled Bisuke, paws dabbed with black ink.

"Out of all of us, you're the best at drawing," said Akino, purposefully flattering.

Uhei reasoned further, "And this is for _Kakashi_."

Bisuke blinked blearily. "Fine."

The small sleepy looking dog struggled with the paper, brush, and ink for awhile before completing what he and the others deemed as a satisfactory drawing of a cake.

Now. To give it to Dobby.

* * *

The house elf turned the picture this way and that, perplexed.

("Dobby sees a…spaghetti?") Pointing at the nonsensical squiggles on the paper, Dobby asked, ("Sirs want spaghetti?")

The dogs shook their heads, sighing. They knew what spaghetti was, as it goes quite well with meatballs, but that wasn't what they were asking for.

"If you'd only draw neater, Bisuke," grumbled Pakkun.

"Yea, yea, I told you to do that line over on the other side of the paper!" added Shiba, ruffling the crest on his forehead in aggravation.

Fur speckled with black ink, Bisuke said lowly, "Don't look at me like that. I don't have thumbs."

"It's okay. We all don't have thumbs," soothed Uhei, ever the peacemaker. "We know you did the best that you could."

Pakkun hung his head, groaning.

"What now?" asked Shiba.

"New plan." Akino grumbled. "Think."

There was a long silence and then…

"Of course!" yelped Pakkun. "We could ask the client-"

A long wail interrupted him. "-PPPaaaaaaakkuuuuuuuun!"

"Oh no."

Their hyperactive pack brother tumbled into the kitchen. Disoriented, the pup shook his fur and called out again, "Pakkun!"

"Guruko, shut up," growled Pakkun as he stalked towards the new arrival. "What are you doing back three hours early?"

"Me and Urushi can only play tag with boss-man for so long! And those spiders! Those spiders in the forest got really angry at us again and chased us _out of the forest_!"

Pakkun felt a dawning horror start from the pit of his stomach. "Guruko. Where's Kakashi now?"

"I dunno!" said Guruko, squinting his eyes in thought. "I think he's with Urushi!"

"This isn't good," observed Uhei.

"Of course it isn't good!" said Shiba apprehensively.

"Pakkun! All that running made me hungry! When's the cake done?"

"There is no cake!" Pakkun prowled towards Guruko, circling the pup. "That's because those cooking prunes don't know what cake is – and you! You came back too early without giving us enough time to bake one anyway-!"

"Hey! Hey! Pakkun!" whined Guruko when Pakkun snapped at his nape.

The other dogs watched as they started a tussle in the kitchen, bumping into the fixtures and causing food to fall onto the ground.

"We should stop them," said Bisuke.

"What. You volunteering?" asked Akino.

"No." Getting comfortable, Bisuke rested against a large bag of flour. "I said we _should_."

Pakkun and Guruko continued to roll around, trying to force the other to whimper a 'mercy'. However, the fight escalated when they bumped into ever inconsolable Winky, causing her butterbeer to spill all over the table. Winky sobbed even harder, wailing, ("_Whhhhhhyyyyy_-hic?")

All the house elves stopped their work to stare.

("Winky!") Dobby was wringing his tea towel again. ("Sirs! Might sirs please not fight?")

"I agree with little _Dobby_ here. This is quite the mess already."

The dogs felt a flash of horror. In contrast, the house elves were relieved and went about cooking again.

Uhei sat up at attention. "Kakashi." Beside Kakashi was Urushi and he was shaking with silent laughter.

Kakashi surveyed the disaster zone. He almost walked out of the kitchen if not for the sense of duty and responsibility tying him to his nindogs. Sighing, he asked, "What are you guys doing here?"

"Oh nothing."

"Yea, nothing! Right, guys?"

"Nothing boss."

"Nothing!"

"Boss-man, I'm hungry!"

"Guruko…" The jounin almost rolled his eye.

"Yeah shut up, Guruko," snarled Pakkun meanly.

"Now, now, Pakkun," chided Kakashi. He then said seriously, "All of you, at attention."

Hackles prickling, the dogs sat up straighter.

Kakashi walked towards his summons, taking in the surroundings. "It looks like a stray wind jutsu tore through the kitchen." With a foot, he tapped a rolling can to a stop.

"So. What happened?"

Pack solidarity be damned. The dogs pointed at Pakkun and Guruko, shuffling backwards.

"Aww…It's not my fault," whined Guruko. "Pakkun started it!"

"_Shut up_," growled Pakkun lowly.

Kakashi was having none of that. "Explain, Pakkun."

"Uhh…" Nervous, the pug stared up at his summon master, cursing at his tall, almost intimidating height. Pakkun then looked around quickly, and found a half squished cupcake next to the leg of a nearby chair. He hastily bounded forwards and grabbed the cupcake, offering it to Kakashi.

The ninja took the inedible baked good suspiciously. "What…?"

Pakkun smiled toothily and apologetically offered, "…Happy Birthday boss?"

Kakashi looked from the hopeful expressions to the cupcake in his hand as it dribbled sticky pink icing onto his glove.

Bisuke stooped his tiny shoulders and sighed, "We wanted to bake a cake but _Dobby_ didn't understand."

"Yeah!"

"What Bisuke said."

Kakashi spoke gruffly, "I don't _like_ cake."

"See! I knew we shoulda said _steak_!" exclaimed Shiba.

"No steak!" snapped Pakkun. "Human birthdays have _cake_!"

"You guys are impossible." Shaking his head, Kakashi sighed and relented, "…I'll go apologize to Headmaster Dumbledore for this mess."

"Thanks boss," smiled Uhei.

Kakashi rubbed the back of head. "Stay out of trouble."

"Got it boss!"

Turning around, their summon master made his way towards the exit and their acute hearing could pick up his muttering. "…I swear my hair is turning greyer every year because of you lot…"

Kakashi then exited the kitchen, pink quasi-cupcake still in hand.

Once he was out of ear shot Pakkun grinned at his pack members. "It worked!"

The dogs quivered with shared joy. "I think he liked it!"

"But that was too close for comfort." Pakkun smirked, "Let's plan ahead next time. What's the next holiday?"

Guruko yipped, "Wizard _Hollow-weenie_!"

"Great! _Hollow-weenie_'s great."

"Ya."

"What Urushi said."

"Wait." Uhei paused. "What's _Hollow-weenie_? Is it the one with flying _steaks_?"

"Flying _steaks_? I like this holiday already…" drooled Shiba.

* * *

**Scene End**

**A/N: **Yes, this isn't the actual chapter. I'll post that when I finish writing it.**  
**


	10. 09: Press the Repeat

**Take Nine: **Press the Repeat (Ran right round, round, round…)

* * *

_Tea, he said, with a Cheshire grin. _

_And so, Dumbledore led his not-so-merry employees to his office…_

_

* * *

_

"What you've done was absolutely against protocol," chided Sprout.

"So we are not having a debate on this, Hatake!" continued McGonagall heatedly.

"I think we are having a debate Professor. Hmm…You're here. They're here. I'm here. We even have someone to mediate this disagreement." Kakashi crossed his arms, nodding towards the Headmaster in deference.

"Disagreement?" Snape sneered at him distastefully. "We're quite done with your political euphemisms, Hatake. The points will be reversed back from before your tampering with or without your _agreement_."

Taking time, he adjusted his disgustingly bright jaundiced scarf and said an almost surprised, "Oh?" The Professors could tell that their 'Mediator' was smiling around the sound.

"Mr. Hatake, unfortunately I have to agree with my colleagues on this," said Flitwick as he wrung his hands together for the umpteenth time. "Leaving the points as it is will not reflect well on the staff."

"Not at all," nodded Sprout. She repeated with a measure of warning, "Not at all."

McGonagall made a half-strangled noise and spun around to face Dumbledore with pleading eyes. "Think of the children, Albus!"

Their Headmaster brushed a hand through his long grey-white beard before saying apologetically, "…They do bring up valid points, Mr. Hatake. I'm afraid having such a heavy hand when deducting points might cause school spirit to plummet."

Snape gave the Headmaster a dry look of disbelief – that the old man could still worry over such trivial matters like school spirit. His teaching equals, however, seemed to latch onto the Headmaster's reasoning like a fish out of water.

"I absolutely concur, Headmaster," announced Flitwick, ever the yes man.

"Negative House points will definitely cause school spirit to drop _dramatically_ even," agreed the Hufflepuff Head of House with sentiment. "This will not go well with the students. _Not at all_."

Even McGonagall nodded curtly. "Which is why this mishap needs to be rectified."

Just as Dumbledore was about to respond, the door to the office slammed open, revealing Madam Pomfrey panicking at the steps. All eyes turned to her, taking in her flyaway hair and red face. She heaved in great gulps of air as she choked out the hurried words.

"He-Head-master-" Pomfrey waved her hands frantically, trying to catch her breath.

Aflutter, Sprout guided their poor medic into the room. "Good grace, Poppy. Take deeper breaths!"

"No, no! No time." Eyes wide, Pomfrey took in a deep breath and finally exclaimed, "Headmaster! _A riot_! We have a student riot on our hands!"

Flitwick squeaked out in disbelief. "A _riot_?"

"Preposterous," growled McGonagall.

Pomfrey shook her head grimly. "I'm afraid it's true." She rounded on Kakashi. "You! You should be ashamed of yourself."

Kakashi looked ready with a comeback but Dumbledore held out a staying hand. "Please, Mr. Hatake. We will discuss this later. Stay in the office with Filius while we survey the damage."

There was a glint in those piercing blue eyes. No one argued his word.

The Headmaster solemnly rose from his seat. "Let's go Professors."

* * *

When the majority of the students woke up that Saturday morning, they all did a double take when they trekked into the Great Hall…

At the entrance of the Great Hall sat the four large hourglasses that depicted the current points delegated to each house. Currently, only the House of Ravenclaw had gems in their hourglass. The three other hourglasses were completely empty and underneath those structures were piles of lacklustre grey-coloured gems. Hemmed into the foot of these hourglasses were numerical values, indicating the current points for each house.

And given what they saw, understandably, the students in Gryffindor, Slytherin, and Hufflepuff – three-quarters of the entire school population – were decidedly outraged.

_Negative_ House points? That was practically unheard of in the entire history of Hogwarts, or so many Ravenclaws and one Hermoine Granger asserted.

As more and more students filed into the Great Hall and spotted the negative House points, many initial thoughts were shared. One such thought in particular stood out and left many mouths as they asked their friends and housemates.

_Who're the idiots that lost us that many points in one night?_

And when their peers, the ones who knew about the actual situation, brought them up to speed about their school Mediator (_Actually if you're talking about idiots, you helped us lose some points this morning_), the previous thought was replaced with another one.

_That bloody moronic squib! He can't do this!_

_

* * *

_

Ginny Weasley crossed her arms, reasonably displeased about the current points predicament. The Gryffindors around her were likewise livid, albeit more vocal about their distraught. Pushing out of the crowd surrounding the hourglasses, she stalked closer to her age mates and listened in on the conversations around her…

"This is so_ stupid_!"

"-underhanded-"

"I can't believe I'm saying this but I'm rooting for Snape-"

"-yeaa and hope he'd poison the idiot Mediator for us."

"He's probably itching to do it."

"Or transfiguration – maybe McGonagall will pull a Moody-"

"-unlikely-"

"-but that was our hard-earned House points!"

A whispery voice said thoughtfully, "It looks like the Ubmub Bumbu finally ate them…"

Ginny nodded along absently until the sentence registered. Raising an eyebrow at 'Ubmub Bumbu', she turned to address the serene Third Year a ways from her. "I'm almost afraid to ask what an Ubmub Bumbu is."

Loony Lovegood, as her peers dubbed her, explained patiently, "Ubmub Bumbu are magical creatures that love to eat sand from hourglasses. It was once said that they scared away Father Time with their appetite."

"…Right." The Weasley rolled her eyes and decided to run with it. "But that's impossible Luna. Everyone knows that the hourglasses held gems in them and not sand. Rubies for Gryffindor, emeralds for Slytherin, sapphires for Ravenclaw, and topaz for Hufflepuffs."

"Oh." Luna paused, playing with the Butterbeer cork necklace around her neck as she thought deeply. "They must have been the mutant species daddy mentioned..."

"Well it doesn't matter either way," grumbled Ginny. "You're in Ravenclaw."

Luna blinked her silvery eyes in a confused manner. "So? Ubmub Bumbu aren't colour racist."

"…What does that have to do with anything?" It was Ginny's turn to be confused.

"Maybe eating all those rubies, topazes and emeralds made them full. I'm sure they're saving those sapphires for later as a snack." The whimsical Ravenclaw smiled. "Then everyone would be without gems."

The eavesdropping Ravenclaws behind them groaned. One of them piped up. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

Michael Corner then added, "Yea, I like the points where they're at thank you very much – o' course, no offence to you Gryffindors."

"Whatever. None taken." Ginny tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "It's not your fault this happened."

"True. We should thank our Mediator for giving us a head start in points," said Anthony Goldstein, deadpanned.

"Get over it Goldstein. Hatake's lousy for pulling this over the entire school," retorted Seamus Finnigan from beside the group.

"And if you're not careful, with a wave of his squibby hands he can send the Ravenclaws spiralling into the negatives too," grumbled Dean Thomas.

Glancing at her fellow Gryffindors, Ginny frowned, "We didn't even do anything really wrong to rob us of those points."

Terry Boot grinned apologetically, "It might be because of McGonagall."

"You mean you think we lost points because of Professor McGonagall," repeated Ginny.

"That's crazy," snorted Seamus.

"Why? We all know how Hatake drives the Head of Houses up the walls," pointed out Anthony. "He could have taken points away to make a statement."

Dean asked sceptically, "Then what about the Ravenclaws?"

"Professor Flitwick and Mr. Hatake made a pact with a Hopeioppi," said Luna reverently.

Seeing the mystified looks, Terry clarified for her, "The Ravenclaws think they're friends."

"I'll sooner eat my left shoe than believe that someone as strange as Hatake can be friends with Professor Flitwick," said Ginny dryly. "I think he gave you House points to build resentment."

"Good girl." Seamus took a step back at the discouraging look from Ginny when those words left his mouth. He smiled weakly. "Look. The Slytherins are giving you Ravenclaws nasty looks. Bugger this! Hatake might be doing this to watch the hate brew."

It was true. With every brash remark and rude gesture, the Slytherins were growing more agitated with each passing second…

But not only that, the hate was also close to home too.

* * *

The Weasley twins glared at the hourglasses, hoping the structures would catch fire or the points would magically reappear.

So far, it wasn't happening.

"Seriously man, we need to do something," said Lee Jordan.

Fred nodded, "Yeah."

"I can't believe we let a squib one-up us," muttered George.

Angelina Johnson tried to rally her friends, "Cheer up guys. I'm sure Professor McGonagall will do something about this."

"It's the principle of the matter, Angelina," grumbled Fred.

"Principle of what matter?" she asked.

"What he's done – it's almost like a prank of epic proportions!" exaggerated George.

Frowning, Lee Jordan suggested, "So then why not just return the favour then?"

"We got to plan first," thought George. "It can't be on the fly."

"The only problem is we don't have anything solid yet," said Fred, picking at the breakfast on his plate.

"Why not just do what you usually do?" At the blank stares, Angelina sighed, "Like your signature pranks."

"But that's so _boring_!" cried out both Weasley twins.

"Not to mention predictable," added Lee Jordan.

Fred considered, "It has to be something new – something the students will talk about for years to come."

"We do have that prototype-" said George.

They started to twin-speak.

"-not ready-"

"-tweak that spell, I'm telling you-"

"-but that means-"

"-of course it means-"

"-then we should also add-"

"-yes, yes, definitely-"

"-just prototypes-"

"-I have it here."

Fred, sneaking glances down the Gryffindor table and seeing that the coast was clear, pulled out a small item from his robes.

George whispered gleefully, "You actually brought them with you?"

"I can't just let them sit in the room," said Fred indignantly.

"What is it?" asked Lee Jordan and Angelina.

Fred uncurled his fingers and revealed a nondescript wad of crumpled brown paper.

"That's it?" said Lee Jordan.

George looked offended. "You can't just say 'that's it'!"

"It just looks…normal," said Angelina as she tried to explain.

Fred started, "Well it's not. It's a new prototype of Weasleys' Wizard-"

"What are you four doing?"

Jolting in his seat, Fred accidentally dropped his prototype into a pie – a half-eaten goat pie to be exact.

"Oh no," uttered Fred and George as they stared at the pie, prototype fizzling immediately upon contact.

"Oh no?" Katie Bell, the one who interrupted the conversation, rolled her eyes. "You two are so _weird_ sometimes."

"Uh…" Watching as the prototype fizzled out, Fred grabbed Katie and Angelina by their wrists and made them duck.

A loud _BANG_ later, the pie sailed towards the Slytherin table…

"What…was that…?" asked Angelina, eyebrows raised.

George grinned sheepishly, "Our prototype firecracker."

The five Gryffindors stared at the table surface where the pie used to sit. It was charred black.

Fred laughed nervously, "As you can see, it still needs adjusting."

* * *

"This is stupid! So. So. Stupid," seethed Daphne Greengrass.

"We heard you once, we heard you a thousand times," drawled Blaise Zabini. "That _squib_ needs to be taught a lesson."

"Humph." Pansy Parkinson crossed her arms. "His mother must've been a half-breed fish-brained mermaid."

"Even _that's_ too good," complained Tracey Davis.

Draco Malfoy scowled at the hourglasses. "We need to reverse this."

"Have you got a plan, Malfoy?" asked Theodore Nott.

Malfoy was silent, having nothing to contribute yet. Instead, he questioned, disgusted, "How could you two still be hungry at a time like this?"

Crabbe and Goyle continued to shovel food into their mouth. Crabbe paused long enough to answer him, "'Cus it's breakfast, Malfoy."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. He was about to say more but paused, eyes zeroing on the approaching projectile.

He ducked.

The person beside him was not as lucky.

Pansy screeched bloody murder. "There's goat pie. In. My. HAIR."

Zabini chortled, "Stop _bleating_. You don't need to have a _kid_ about it!"

There was a choked enraged yell and pie bits were smashed into Zabini's face. Zabini took revenge by splashing the Slytherin girls with pumpkin juice. Yelping, the girls, wet, took matters into their own hands, grabbing the omelettes and bacon pieces and throwing them at any one passing by. Creatively, they dunked bits of muffin into the juice so that they would stick to skin better.

Then Peeves the Hogwarts Poltergeist entered the scene and all hell broke loose.

_Food fight!_

* * *

It was chaos. Food whizzed in the air, splattering on surfaces that food never should be on. Students were ducking this way and that, some trying to escape the fray and others joining in on the 'fun'.

Emotions were boiling high, especially with the House points as they were. Some treated the food fight as a stress reliever. The Ravenclaws found themselves to be walking targets, being ganged up by the three other Houses…

"SILENCE."

The powerful roar for peace was deafening. All the students shuddered and turned as one to face their – not _angry_, but even worse – _disappointed_ Headmaster.

"Students, please drop the food back onto the tables."

Dumbledore, standing in front of the dais, watched as students discarded the food weapons in their hands. To his immediate left, McGonagall was about to reprimand a Gryffindor student but was stalled by the Headmaster's staying hand.

"And Mr. Weasley, if you would please put down the bacon and Mr. Weasley, I'm sure the bread rolls did you no great wrong to mutilate them."

Only the Headmaster managed to address the twins sternly without fear of retribution, much to the professors' admiration. The twins looked sincerely contrite. "Er. Right Headmaster," was their unison agreement.

And as everyone settled down into their seats, most faces red with mortification, Dumbledore addressed the crowd of preteens and young adolescents.

"I'm very disappointed." The Headmaster's aged, tired voice echoed in the confines of the Great Hall. "Very disappointed."

The majority of the students present hung their heads in shame.

"Prefects, please lead the students back to the dormitories. Breakfast will be served at the Common rooms…"

* * *

When the students were organized and settled, the meeting was resumed with the four Head of Houses, the Headmaster, and their foreign guest…

"Sherry Bats?"

Dumbledore took the time to shake the tin of candies towards Kakashi. The resident ninja tried to decline politely but the Headmaster was quite persistent. "Just one. I assure you nothing strange will happen."

Kakashi tugged at his sunflower-yellow scarf and cleared his throat.

Dumbledore amended, "Not again, at least. I do express regret for the charcoal-flavoured Every Flavour Bean."

"No need for the apologies, Headmaster." He smiled tightly, not that they could see it, and relented. "Aah. I'm not a big fan of sweets but…Just one then."

And so he took one, sniffing at the candy almost delicately. "What is this?"

"Sugar with a few dashes of sherry." Dumbledore smacked on another piece. "I'm quite fond of the lovely bat shapes."

With a sleight of hand, the candy was popped into his mouth but no obvious reaction was garnered. Observant, Dumbledore _saw_ something though and chuckled civilly, "Yes, it _is _an acquired taste."

Kakashi steadily chewed on his piece of candy.

The assembled Head of Houses fidgeted behind the two. "Are we ready to _discuss_ yet-" The stress on the 'discuss' was unmistakable. "-or are we going to talk about sweets for the rest of this meeting?"

Both Dumbledore and Kakashi turned to face the other occupants in the room.

"Patience, dear Minerva."

McGonagall scowled, "I think I speak for all of us when I say we are quite done with patience, Albus. We've been patient enough since his stay but this…this is too much!"

"If I may, Headmaster," said Kakashi and didn't wait for formalities and permission. "There's a terrible lack of discipline at this school."

"What do you mean by that now Mr. Hatake?" Sprout harrumphed. "Discipline has always been doled out with _reasonable_ House point deductions and detentions."

"Aah. I didn't mean '_to_ discipline', Professor Sprout." The Mediator seemed almost bored. "I meant discipline as a code of conduct. The students are quite disrespectful."

No one in the room missed the hidden jab at the fact that disrespectfulness from the students could only be from a lack of control exerted by the Professors.

"I should say, that's a bold statement to make," stated Flitwick nervously.

"But true." Unrepentant, Kakashi smiled thinly.

McGonagall, knowing that this was _Hatake _they were speaking to, decided refuting his logic would lead to nowhere. Instead she asked sourly, "And what does that have to do with the events this morning?"

The look she received from him was as dry as the Mongolian Gobi desert. "In my village-" Ears perked up in interest as this was perhaps the first time he willingly referred to his place of origin. "-We respect the words of our elders and leaders to a tee."

Snape knew what he was hinting at. A sneer curled his lips. "Respect...Curious, why, Mr. Hatake, should the students respect you when you haven't given them reason to?"

Kakashi was unruffled and said matter-of-factly. "That shouldn't have mattered, not when their leader – your leader – placed me in command. They should have implicitly trusted the Headmaster's judgement."

_Your Leader._ If Snape tensed due to Kakashi's choice of words, they didn't notice.

The shinobi continued, "It's obvious the students and staff respect Headmaster Dumbledore too, at least, from what I witnessed during the sorting ceremony."

That may have been another backward reprimand at the Professors.

"So it's rather curious how everyone is so…" Kakashi trailed off, shrugging.

"No one can build confidence in someone else like that so unreservedly!" McGonagall claimed.

Sprout pondered, "Without a base, no healthy relationship can bloom. No trust at all there, Mr. Hatake."

Kakashi _chose_ not to respond.

The other Professors, however, couldn't get around his flaw in logic. His views and words were so…(_militaristic_). Only Dumbledore remained impassive at Kakashi's declaration, calmly chewing on another Sherry Bat.

And so, the uncomfortable silence remained until the Headmaster swallowed the candy and said, "Interesting views, Mr. Hatake. I believe this is where our culture differs."

Kakashi intoned, "Aah. So it seems. Regardless, there is that issue with the students not following through with my instructions. That _is_ a valid reason towards point deductions."

"Yes, I can cede to that." McGonagall looked pained after making that admittance. She regained fire though. "But the amount you deducted was absolutely ludicrous. Tell me the math."

He willingly obliged. "Five points off for every student who didn't show up." Kakashi appeared to think and gave them his classic grin, "The Ravenclaws gained extra points because…Well, I think you know why."

Easily piecing the hints, Snape muttered darkly, "The House with the most representation this morning."

Flitwick opened his mouth, ready to protest. "You…"

"Aah. Most of the students in your House are very good at following instructions," informed Kakashi, _almost _reassuring but failing spectacularly.

"You can't…" Flitwick hung his head in defeat. "…do that."

McGonagall glanced from Dumbledore and Kakashi to Flitwick who was rapidly rubbing his forehead. Her lips thinned. "So that was why the points from Ravenclaw exceeded my calculations."

Sprout added, "Certainly caused quite a stir amongst the students. Students fighting and squabbling because of the points – imagine that! Jealous of the other Houses' points! Well I'll never…"

Voice mild, Dumbledore summed her thoughts, "Three-quarters of the students were understandably unhappy."

"Which could have been prevented," stated McGonagall. "School _riot_…I fear the parents will have several things to say about that."

_Gotcha_. Kakashi smiled. "So you finally see the counter-productiveness of a points system."

"What do you mean?" asked Sprout.

He said the keywords, "School riot."

"That happened only after _you_ unbalanced the system!" snapped the Gryffindor Head of House.

"True, but you can't deny that the animosity and competitive edge has been brewing since Hogwarts was founded – or at least the clues in '_Hogwarts, A History_' lead me to believe." Kakashi leaned into his seat, pleased. "And curious, you wish for inter-House unity? I don't think that will happen anytime soon – not with this points system in the way."

Flitwick's voice was tired when he reluctantly asked, "What do you suggest then, Mr. Hatake?"

"Abolishment of the points," said Kakashi simply.

The Professors stared at him. Silent.

From the Headmaster, conversely, Kakashi heard the muttered "_definitely_ untraditional and unorthodox". Dumbledore laughed quietly, a Glowing Rabbit Tail candy in his mouth. His abated chuckles shook the other teachers from their stupor.

"That's-That's-!" said Sprout, wide-eyed.

"Impossible. The House points are to ensure good behaviour and studiousness in school," McGonagall clucked, disapproving of the notion.

Flitwick shook his head in agreement. "I'm afraid removing such a tradition would not reflect well on anyone involved."

Snape remained quiet, connecting the various dots and cluing in. It appeared Hatake purposefully unbalanced the House points to an unheard of degree so as to rouse the student's anger and anxiety. And relying on the predictability of the students – behavioural patterns he must have noticed in class – he depended on a massive unrest to occur. So in all truths, the 'waking up early' stunt he pulled was a roundabout ploy to pressure the Headmaster into removing the points system. _Clever_.

Kakashi took their disagreement and, in Snape's case, calm, in easy stride. He asserted again, "House points are counterproductive. You want school unity yet you pit them against one another for points."

"Again, this is used to reward students when they show acceptable behaviour or growth and learning. If not points, then what else?" McGonagall frowned severely. "And no corporal punishments. I'm sure you know that the Middle Ages are long past."

"Well if you're so adamant in keeping the points system…" At that statement, Kakashi received a collective glare from the Professors. He rubbed the back of his head and suggested, "How about an overall points tally by combining the points from the four Houses? Reach four thousand points by the end of the year and a prize will be rewarded."

"What kind of prize?" asked Sprout curiously.

"…I'll think of something." Kakashi smiled.

"But four thousand points is quite the difficult feat," said Dumbledore. "I would be impressed if the students manage to achieve such a milestone."

"Indeed." McGonagall added, "It's near impossible, in fact. Each House reach a yearly average of four hundred points, if not less."

His smile darkened to a smirk. "Exactly."

Sprout, hands on hips, stood up to her full height to address their wayward Mediator. "You're not suggesting giving them an impossible task on purpose, Mr. Hatake; that is no motivation for the students. They'll be disheartened!"

"Correction, Professor Sprout, it will make them strive to beat the impossible." Kakashi then added, "I'm sure the Ravenclaws will strive anyway…" And then in even softer contemplative undertones, he muttered, "Maybe even Hufflepuffs, the agreeable fellows, and Slytherins, those ambitious little snakes…"

Kakashi purposefully let those statements hang in the air. Starkly feeling the omission, the Gryffindor Head of House fumed, looking ready to hiss like a slighted cat, until-

"-And I believe the Gryffindors will strive too," said Dumbledore, eyes peering up at Kakashi in semi-challenge.

The shinobi backed down. "Of course," Kakashi agreeably nodded along.

Seeming satisfied, Dumbledore sat back. "Very well. I will consider this interesting proposition, Mr. Hatake."

They all spoke at once.

"But-"

"Headmaster…"

"We will discuss this later, Albus."

"Hmn."

"Aah."

Dumbledore said decisively, "Then may I say – this meeting is adjour-"

Sprout interrupted him. "No, wait. I have something I would like to add."

"You have another suggestion, my dear?" asked the Headmaster.

Kakashi could smell a plot afoot. _"Ah but the peace keeper, she won't be very mean about this-"_

"Yes I do." Sprout rubbed at the bridge of her nose, smudging the dirt there. "I don't mean to go against you, Mr. Hatake, but I think we should curb the amount of points you're allowed to deduct. What if this happens again?"

Kakashi started, speaking lowly, "You have my word-"

With a smile that students understood meant 'impending doom', McGonagall interrupted him. "A good suggestion, Pomona. I don't want something like this to disrupt and distress the students – especially the younger years – again." She recommended, "We should curb his point deductions to one hundred points daily."

"Two hundred points," he said flatly. "At least."

"This was never up for debate, Hatake," said Snape, lip curling unpleasantly.

Kakashi matched stares with Snape and stressed, "Two hundred points minimum."

"Gentlemen-" Seeing McGonagall ready to protest, Dumbledore added, "-and my gentle ladies, I would rather not limit any of my fellows in such a way."

Sprout fluttered her hands. "But Headmaster-!"

"Aaa." The resident ninja interrupted, voice velvety, "I don't mind, Professor Dumbledore. This may be an advantage yet."

The other Professors thought collectively. _How can losing power still be an advantage?_

Dumbledore stroked his beard. "Is that so?"

McGonagall grumbled, "One hundred points, Mr. Hatake."

"A minimum of two hundred points."

"That is one hundred points off the mark," said Snape curtly.

Flitwick piped up with a marked hesitance, "Why not a compromise at one hundred fifty points? That is…Well…"

"-That is a welcome suggestion," said Dumbledore. "As long as we have Mr. Hatake's agreement."

Kakashi crossed his legs at his ankles, poise revealing ease. In his eyes, it was a simple matter. "Okay."

"Okay-?" repeated McGonagall, unbelieving. "You can't just-"

Dumbledore smiled, blue eyes twinkling. "Then that's settled."

Face red, McGonagall looked like she swallowed a hairball. "You can't just _do that_!"

"Do what?" Kakashi asked innocently.

She straightened her back, slanting her eyes to stare down at him. "-Take control of the situation like-"

Flitwick broke into the squabble, much to McGonagall's chagrin. "And while we're still here-" The Charms Professor tilted his head at Kakashi in a rather apologetic manner. "-I propose reverting the points back to where they were at last night."

Before their Mediator could say another word, Snape said, "– As you've already made your unnecessary point, Hatake."

Professor Sprout nodded in concurrence and Professor McGonagall reluctantly followed along, still hung over the fact that he gained a fifty point limit. Kakashi neither agreed nor disagreed Flitwick's suggestion.

"Then that's settled as well," said Dumbledore again after a lapse of silence. "And if there isn't anything else we need to address, I hereby adjourn this meeting. It's time for mid-morning tea."

And as Kakashi left, his expression was indecipherable. _"A gain, a loss and a loss. I can accept that."_

Kakashi just didn't like their smug looks.

* * *

For the rest of the day and Sunday, Kakashi avoided the public eye even after when the points were reversed. Instead, he focused on research. When Monday rolled around the corner, he took a giant leap of faith and-

* * *

It was very smoky in the Divination tower that Monday morning. He nearly choked on the vaporized perfume several times. Seating himself at the back corner closer to the windows, the students gave him a wide, wide berth.

Kakashi muttered, "No need to treat me like an infection."

The students seated nearby shifted uncomfortably.

"I won't deduct points."

Hearing those words, they sat ramrod straight. They obviously didn't believe him.

And of course several anxious seconds later, whisking into the room like a phantom, Professor Trelawny entered her domain. The fabric of her robe whispered softly in the quiet room as she raised her hands up in a parody of an embrace.

"Good morning class."

The students murmured obediently, "Good morn-"

"-You!" Trelawny's magical grace vanished when she spotted him. Her face purpled considerably and she huffed. It was clear he wouldn't be getting sympathy from her any time soon.

Her next words confirmed his prediction.

"_Class_, today we will be studying star charts. As you can see here, Jupiter is eclipsing Saturn. And Mars! Mars is very red. I foresee Mr. Hatake in throes of great _horrible_ agony."

Eyes wide as saucers, the impressionable Third years glanced from Trelawny to Hatake, nervous.

Kakashi rolled his eyes, scorn gracing his features.

"_Been there. Done that."_

_

* * *

_

…And since the Professors were still touchy about the event on Saturday, he holed himself up again. After all, missions didn't complete themselves.

* * *

Guruko was a ginger blur as he raced into the room, panting, and yipped loudly.

"HEY! Hey boss-man!"

Chewing on his lower lip, Kakashi continued to write.

"Boss-man!"

He finished the half-written words and reread what he wrote.

"Boss-man! Oi – OI!" Guruko leapt up and stood on his hind paws, front paws resting on his thighs.

Kakashi shifted minutely. "What is it Guruko?" There was a hint of annoyance as he poised his quill over the parchment and turned to face the hyperactive dog.

"Well you see I was patrolling-"

"Which you should still be doing," he pointed out. "Why did you leave your post?"

Guruko twitched his whiskers. "That's the thing! I was running around the school grounds!"

"And…"

"The giant humongous man had these crates! So cool! When he opened them I saw these things that can shoot _fire_ outta their butts!"

'_Fire out of their butts. Okay.'_ He nodded along – for the sake of diffusing the situation. His attention was torn in two as he half-listened and half-considered the message he was writing.

Guruko's enthusiasm didn't wilt in the face of his half-hearted attempts in conversation. "They had this cool looking stingies and – and, and – they're so _tiny_! I can eat them in one bite!"

Here, he paused, right eyebrow raised sardonically. "For your sake, I hope you didn't."

"Course not boss-man! They're sooo cool! I can't just _eat_ them!" The summon sounded scandalized.

"…"

"Yip!"

Kakashi stared at him blankly.

"Boss-man?"

"Yes?"

"Aren't you even a bit curious?"

"Not really."

Excited, he danced from paw to paw. "Aww…Come on boss-man! Let's go for a walk! I can show you the cool things even! Let's go!" Guruko gathered the hem of Kakashi's shirt and tugged, much like a child.

"No Guruko. I'm finishing my report." With a free hand, he tapped at the cold nose pressed into his side.

Guruko sneezed but persisted. "But a walk! I love walks! _You_ love walks! Let's go on a walk _together _and see the _cool things_!" He took in deep heaving breaths and wailed a loud, "Pleeeaaassseee!"

He sounded like a dying wildebeest.

One wary glance down at his begging puppy and Kakashi knew he wouldn't be getting anymore writing done with Guruko so worked up. A heavy sigh later, he conceded. "Fine. Let's go for a walk then."

"Yay!"

Guruko then chased his tail three times before dashing out the door. His master followed at a much more sedate pace, evergreen scarf adjusted absently.

* * *

"Groundskeeper Hagrid," hailed Kakashi from afar. Nosing at his knee, Guruko tried to push his summon master, impatient.

Hagrid waved. "Jus' Hagrid s'fine Mister Hatake."

"Mr. Hagrid then." Kakashi glanced at his surroundings scrupulously, trying to spot the crate Guruko was yammering about. Guruko in turn yipped a greeting at the Groundskeeper while circling Kakashi's legs.

"And yer firecracker dog's back." Hagrid rumbled. "Hullo."

("Hey giant man! Heey!") cheered the dog, jumping up and catching Hagrid's sleeve.

"Guruko," came the curt command.

The ninken whined, ("Aww…") Another pointed silence and Guruko reluctantly let go of Hagrid.

Once released, the half-giant bent down to pet the pup on his head. He then straightened and scratched his chin, relieving an improbable itch under his lower lip. He was pensive. "I dun suppose yeh'd tell me what I can do fer yeh?"

"Well…"

"-And if it's got somethin' ter do with those ruddy pranks yeh pull on the students then yeh got 'nother one comin'."

"Pranks…?" Looking 'perplexed', Kakashi explained, "I'm actually here to ask about the creatures in the forest."

"Oh. Why didn't yeh say so?" Hagrid grinned widely. "What're yeh lookin' fer?"

"Something that can shoot fire out of their rear ends." Kakashi coughed into a hand to release the embarrassing tension. "Does the description ring any bells?"

The giant thought hard. "I dun suppose yeh'd be referrin' ter ma babies."

"Babies?" repeated Kakashi weakly.

Hagrid saw the look he was getting and clarified proudly, "The Blast-Ended Skrewts."

"Blast-Ended Skrewts…" sounded Kakashi, as if testing the word.

"Come on, I'll show yeh." Hagrid lumbered towards the back of his hut. "I'm usin' 'em in my lessons."

Kakashi nodded and followed him, hands in pockets. Sulking, Guruko trailed along, tail wagging once he spotted the crates.

Stopping at one of the containers, Kakashi asked, "They're in here?"

"Yep. My Blast-Ended Skrewts. Yeh might want ter give 'em some liver. I haven't fed 'em yet today." Hagrid removed the cover of one of the crates, revealing the creatures trapped inside.

Kakashi peered into the box and quickly assessing the organisms, privately amended Guruko's observations.

First off it wasn't fire.

Secondly, the creatures were quite slimy and ugly, not 'cool'.

…And the smell. The _putrid _smell…

Tail in danger of wagging off, Guruko stood on his hind legs, neck craned into the crate. He made soft 'ooo'-ing noises, much to his developing disgust.

That _smell_.

"Guruko."

Dog ears perked up, he swivelled his head around. ("Yes boss-man?")

Hagrid, who had looked ready to pull Guruko away, stalled and stared at the dog.

("Down.") Kakashi commanded.

The canine whined. ("But I wanna see!") The responding fierce eyes sufficiently intimidated the dog into dropping back onto all four paws.

Hagrid opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the proper words, but instead ended up blurting out, "He really can talk!"

"Yes, he can," said Kakashi. He added in a bored tone, "Terribly chatty too."

There was an odd shine in his eyes. "I hear yeh've got a dog pack and they…?"

"Talk? Yes." Smiling lightly, he said, "And what about your dog, Mr. Hagrid?"

Hagrid coloured and muttered affectionately, "Uh…The mutt's not a talker but he's an ol' softie."

"What's his name?"

"Fang."

As if he knew he was being spoken about, the black boarhound scrambled out of the hut where he had been sleeping; he circled Hagrid playfully, eyes never leaving the two strangers.

Guruko sat up and barked amiably at the newcomer. ("Hi! Hi there! Who are you?")

Fang whined, a low growl collecting at the back of his throat. Hagrid tugged at Fang's collar. "Dun need to be rude, boy."

Kakashi frowned, ("I don't think he understands our language-")

("Waaah? Okay, okay!") Guruko yelped. ("But I dunno his name! How can I be his friend?")

Friend? Oh bother. ("His name is Fang.")

("Oh! Hi Fang!") The peppy puppy shook out his ginger coat and circled Kakashi's legs. ("My name's Guruko! This is _boss-man_ 'cus he's like my boss only not really!")

("Didn't I tell you already that he doesn't understand? And I can introduce myself, thank you very much,") muttered Kakashi, a tad exasperated.

("Huh? I know-!") Guruko approached the other dog proudly and started to converse animatedly with Fang in Canine.

Fang seemed to understand now. Barking loudly several times, the dog sniffed at Guruko, tail thumping. Fang even gazed at Kakashi briefly with a hint of greater intelligence.

Hagrid watched the on-goings in awe. "Mr. Hatake. Do yeh know what they're talkin' about?"

"Not really. I don't speak Dog." Kakashi shrugged. ("Guruko, report.")

("Report! Right! Fang says hi, boss-man! And nice to meet you!") Guruko yipped in a higher pitch, a level reached only when excited.

("I see…It's nice to meet him too,") he said mildly.

("Unnn! Now he's tellin' me 'bout mud wrestling and the best mud holes in the forest!") Guruko jumped up into the air cheerily. ("Let's go mud wrestling, boss-man! It sounds fun!")

("…No.") Ignoring the disappointed whine, Kakashi re-answered Hagrid's previous question with utmost seriousness.

"They're talking about mud holes."

* * *

The blue sky was bluer today, reminiscent of the long sticky summer days. The temperature, however, reflected autumn and the cold stirrings of winter. It was, he thought, nice, especially when cocooned in warmth with a sunbeam stretched across his back.

It was the middle of the week and for once, Kakashi decided to laze in bed past seven (A habit he picked up when working to the point of exhaustion). Actually, it was almost noon and he still had his head buried beneath a pillow…

…That was, until a curious coo drew him from his daydreams. _Awaji_.

He pressed his face closer into the mattress when he heard the distinct flapping of wings. Feathers fluttered and he felt a stray fluff tickle his nose. Squinting an eye open from underneath the pillow, he spotted the talons dancing from one end of the bed to the other. There was a note attached to his bird's leg.

Kakashi suppressed the groan.

Stilling, Awaji – or what he could see of her – hopped closer to where he was hiding from the world. His messenger bird bobbed up and down, readjusting her dark-coloured wings fitfully.

He freed an arm from the covers in response.

Awaji seemed to croon at that action and carefully hopped from foot to foot. The bird then edged closer until her belly was inches away from his forehead. Fluffing her feathers out almost indignantly, she began to preen his hair – or at least, what hair he had sticking out from under his cover.

Motionless, he garbled, "Awaji…That's enough…"

The bird managed a squawk when Kakashi's freed hand groped at the empty air above her head before landing on her back. Liberating himself from his bird's clutches, he sat up, kneeling on the bed and looking sleep-deprived with his hair mussed. Kakashi directed a half-lidded stare at the hawk when he set her down on his warm pillow.

"Message?"

Awaji held still obediently, holding out a leg to allow the fumbling fingers to untie the message around the appendage.

Unfurling the small piece of paper, Kakashi took several moments to read the notice; the contents didn't seem to interest him much as he tossed it carelessly onto his desk. Plopping back onto his bed, prone, he curled up in the blankets and ignored the prickling along the nape of his neck.

The contents of the short message were laid bare for all eyes capable of understanding the code.

"_Kakashi_

_I expect the mission report no later than next week."_

_

* * *

_

Late Thursday night, there was a scheduled Astronomy class.

It was very quiet at the Astronomy Tower as the mix of fifth years was quite focused on completing their star charts. Tonight, they were tracking the position of Saturn. Professor Sinistra was speaking in low tones, guiding her students patiently. Allowing the lull to establish wholly, Kakashi waited for the right time before…

_BAM._

Gasps and short yelps echoed into the night. Most students jumped from the noise while a group of them procured the wands from their holsters.

"_Interesting reaction times…"_ thought their hidden shinobi.

Professor Sinistra, wand pointed towards the area where the noise originated from, called out, "Who's here disrupting my class?"

There was a moment of silence before a familiar voice called out, "Sorry Professor. My book slipped."

She should've known. "Mr. Hatake?" Sinistra then asked a touch rudely, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm reading," he answered, as if it was perfectly logical to be reading in the absolute dark. He was clearly pulling their collective leg.

"Reading!" Sinistra waved her wand. "_Lumos_!" A gentle light bathed the area – there was the fallen book – and she moved the wand – up, up, _up_ – until she illuminated their Mediator.

The students murmured, curious. Kakashi was currently seated at the edge of the roof and a few students already felt sick from imagined vertigo when they spotted his dangerous position on the spire.

"Isn't he afraid of falling?" asked a stout female Hufflepuff.

"Don't know…"

Sinistra ignored the chit-chat around her and said, "How are you still reading up there?"

Kakashi bestowed them his trademark smile. "Practice." It definitely wasn't a lie, especially since he moonlighted as an assassin before this Hogwarts mission. As an assassin, he had a lot of blueprints and plans to look at during planning and unfortunately for his team, planning happened at night.

"Practice." Sinistra repeated.

"Yes and by eating healthy and eating lots of vegetables – which are good for you, children."

(If Pakkun was here, he would have called him a 'hypocrite' since he knew that Kakashi tended to skip meals when researching.)

The 'children' grumbled in annoyance.

"We're sixteen!" retorted a Hufflepuff boy hotly. "If you want, go bother the first years."

Another boy, most likely a muggle, labelled him derisively. "Health nut."

Those two boys were silenced by the intense glares of their House mates. One thin and gangly girl hissed, "Keep quiet! We don't want to lose House points again."

The two boys gulped audibly.

Sinistra tapped her shoes. "Well?"

Kakashi flipped a page of the book, '_Magical Studies_', in his hand and said offhandedly, "Yes, nuts are healthy too but only in moderation."

"…"

Feeling the silence and revelling in it, Kakashi then added, "Leafy greens, children. Leafy greens and lots of colours. If you follow this diet, you'll actually notice that you-" He singled out one of the students. "-You're off in your calculations by half a degree."

"How can you tell from up there?" cried out another student to his right.

"I just can."

Actually, he can't but he had heard how Professor Sinistra reminded that particular student to adjust his calculations by half a degree. So when the sceptical student checked his calculations, he affirmed Kakashi's declaration.

"How did he know?" whispered one blond.

The red-head beside her whispered back, eyes widened in dramatics, "Maybe he has _eagle eyes_."

* * *

It was Friday – Friday night, to be precise. The whole of Hogwarts was fraught with nervous energy (because tomorrow would mean _Saturday_ and Saturday might mean _early morning wakeup call_ – stupid Mediator).

…Later, they would realize that they had a right to be so worried.

* * *

"You know the drill kids," he read out loud to his ninken audience.

Kakashi crumpled the copy of his note into his pocket and waited, regally perched on the Quidditch Field bleachers.

His chosen ninken scattered to the winds, heading towards the targets of the night.

* * *

("…Arf.")

"Amelia…Amelia…Did you hear that?" whispered the Gryffindor seventh year.

"…I did, Claret," responded Amelia, sitting up in her bed. She waved her wand and performed _Lumos_.

The dim light illuminated enough space so that she could spot a beige tail. She allowed the light to trail up the furry body until it shone into the face of a snarling, white muzzled dog.

Urushi's 'smile' widened, baring gleaming white teeth. ("Good morning.")

"It _talked_," breathed Claret in wonderment. "I've never seen a talking dog before."

"Yes but you're missing the point!" The prefect cursed, "That's _Hatake's dog_!"

'Hatake's dog' perked up when he heard his master's name. Grumbling lowly, the canine enunciated in poor English, "Yu naw…yu naw de-de-dreel kiddo."

After a moment of staring, Amelia pulled a face. "Um…What?"

Claret asked suspiciously, "We're gnawing on the drill kit?"

* * *

The English words echoed blandly in the dank room.

"You know the drill."

Bisuke sat at the foot of the male Slytherin prefect's bed, waiting for a reaction. In hindsight, it was a rather fruitless wait. And why is that? He received no response because the children were still soundly asleep – an activity he would love to indulge in as well.

After an all-suffering sigh, he tried again, "Kiddos. Drill. Know. The." Scratching an ear with his hind leg, he added pensively, "You?"

It was a shame that those were the only words he knew in English that were applicable to the situation.

* * *

In contrast, Pakkun was always the best in terms of learning the human tongues. ("Yo.")

He was also always quite good with diversion tactics and bringing attention to himself when he wanted it. Tapping a paw at the Hufflepuff prefect's face, he tried again, ("Yo.")

Cedric startled awake. "What?"

"You know the drill kids," uttered the dog, monotone.

"I know the what?" Cedric shifted higher so that he was now sitting up. "Wait a minute, you're talking in _English_!"

Pakkun repeated again, brown eyes staring at him meaningfully, "You know the drill kids." He then retreated in a puff of smoke.

Pushing the hair back from his forehead, Cedric muttered, "…I must be dreaming."

* * *

Bull lumbered up the steps and sat near the male Ravenclaw prefect's bed. Drooling lightly, he spat out a note, the message hard to read because of the excess saliva.

Sitting with him was Akino and he nosed at the covers before pulling them off the boy.

It took awhile but soon, the student leader was shaking and groping absently for his missing blankets. "Wah…?" The prefect sat up straight when he felt the cold draft of midnight air. He then spotted the dogs. "_Non, non_ – not again."

Akino interrupted his denial-filled rambling with Kakashi's message.

"You know the drill kids."

* * *

_If the trick worked once, good job, hope they get the message._

…_But if the trick works twice, either you were very sneaky or the opponent didn't learn their lesson yet._

_

* * *

_

Harry Potter stood beside his Gryffindor roommates on the Quidditch pitch, rubbing away the grit in his eyes. It really was too early to be awake, especially for panicked prefects to run into his room explaining in half-sentences how 'Hatake's dog' convinced them that they had a 'drill' – and not the 'gnawing on drill kits' variety.

When the prefects left and none of that information sank in (in fact, he couldn't make heads or tails of their words), Harry was glad someone else had been listening. Neville mentioned in a timid voice that it was Saturday. To that bit of information, Seamus Finnigan flipped the bird and buried himself into his covers.

It took combining efforts with Neville to encourage Dean Thomas to wake up and smell the coffee. And when that was accomplished, they wasted minutes persuading Seamus of the same. As for Ron, they knew that no amount of convincing will do so they bodily dragged him out of bed.

"This is bloody stupid."

Glancing at his grousing friend, Harry said, "Yeah. I think you mentioned that already."

Ron slumped his shoulders. "Seriously. The sun is barely up."

"Yeah."

"So why're we here?"

"It's 'cus if we're not here, _he_ might just deduct points," explained Seamus grouchily.

Dean added, "And we know for a fact that he hasn't deducted a single point all week so he's probably itching to do it."

Neville patted Ron's shoulder reassuringly. "At least it's Saturday."

"A Saturday that I could be sleeping in!" Ron bemoaned.

"Then sleep." At the looks he received, Dean pointed at their peers. "The girls are asleep on their feet."

And so they were except for Hermione, who was missing.

"No wonder it's been so quiet," mused Seamus.

Hair messier than usual, Harry yawned into a fist and waited, watching as the students of different Houses trickle onto the field. He had missed last Saturday's debacle so wasn't exactly sure what to expect. All he had heard from most of his House mates was that Mr. Hatake was vindictive and should be tossed out of Hogwarts. And that, sadly, didn't tell him much so he turned to another source of information. One of the Ravenclaws – a boy called Terry Boot –mentioned that the Mediator had deducted points based on the number of students who didn't show up from each House. Slytherins had the least showing while Gryffindors and Hufflepuff were almost on par in numbers. Ravenclaws, on the other hand, had the most in numbers.

He knew that not all the Gryffindors were present today. In fact, feeling a flash of annoyance at the realization, most of their upper years didn't show up. So, counting the heads milling around, he noticed that the Ravenclaws – yet again – had the heaviest showing. The Hufflepuffs actually fared better this time with greater numbers and was second to Ravenclaw. As for the Slytherins…

When Harry spotted Draco Malfoy's sneering face, he was unpleasantly shocked. The number of Slytherins that showed up beat the number of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, which meant that Gryffindors had the least representation.

Taunting, Malfoy said loudly, much to the Slytherins' delights, "Those Gryffindor wimps probably needed their beauty sleep!"

Growling, he was about to snipe back with a remark but was beaten to the punch by a teasing voice.

"Aaah. Mr. Malfoy the ferret. Brain running from your mouth again?" The students not from Slytherin chuckled at Malfoy's expense. The Mediator, who was sitting in the stands, smirked; Harry was surprised that he didn't notice him until now. Mr. Hatake continued, "It's sad to think that you're the only student whose name I know."

Malfoy's face was flushed red from either embarrassment or anger – not that Harry was all too bothered to figure out. All he knew was that Malfoy looked ready to yell at the man.

Not that Mr. Hatake gave him a chance.

"Now! Good morning everyone."

Around Harry, his peers gave a half-hearted 'good morning'. Ron grumbled a long rant about how 'good afternoons would have been more appreciated'.

The Mediator crossed his arms. "I see not everyone is here again."

"Talk about déjà-vu," whispered a familiar voice behind him.

Harry frowned, "Hermione? Where were you?"

"Common room," she said as if it was the most evident answer ever. "I was working on S.P.E.W."

"Oh not that-" Harry was glad that Ron was cut off by Neville.

Neville asked politely, "What do you mean déjà-vu?"

Seamus answered for her, "Hatake said the same two opening sentences last Saturday."

"That might mean he's getting ready to deduct points then?" mused Harry out loud.

"Probably," said Dean in agreement.

Mr. Hatake interrupted their conversation. "It appears that the Gryffindors aren't taking my instructions to heart."

Harry could feel the tension building around him when they were signalled out. "What do you reckon he'll do?"

Hermione answered him. "I don't know…He's quite unpredictable."

"Nah. He's probably gonna take off five points for every one person missing – like last time," reasoned Ron.

Mr. Hatake gave the end of his cinnamon red scarf a tug and said firmly, "So I have decided to take one-hundred fifty points from Gryffindors."

…One-hundred fifty points.

Wait.

_One-hundred fifty points_?

"That's not fair!" he shouted along with his Gryffindor peers.

"And that is all," waved the Mediator. "Everyone may go. Have a nice breakfast."

"He…He…"

Harry stared at their Asian foreigner, flabbergasted.

* * *

By the early eighth hour of the day, the massive point deductions on Gryffindor were half-way reversed. Instead, the deductions were balanced out to all four Houses, much to the students' initial puzzlement. For the most obvious reasons, the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and especially the Slytherins, were displeased by the development. After all, the Mediator stated that only the Gryffindors were going to take the brunt of the outcome…

…So what happened?

The Gryffindors and the rest of Hogwarts had McGonagall to thank for.

Rumours were already circulating that she very _nearly_ pulled a Moody on Hatake, if not for the quick intervention from Flitwick and Sprout.

* * *

Monday morning brought along dread. Snape had a bad feeling – a feeling that got his old scars to twinge. It was justified when he answered the knock on his classroom door and opened it, only to come face to face with Hatake, lounging at the entranceway.

Hatake smiled, "_Can_ I come in?"

Snape's hands twitched and twisted at the fabric of his robe. "Hatake."

"Professor Snape." Mild in outward appearance, Hatake pointed out obnoxiously. "Careful. You wouldn't want to wrinkle your clothes."

Swallowing his temper until it abated to a cool fire, Snape asked, "What are you doing here?"

The Mediator grinned. Snape hated that patronising expression.

"You're a smart man, Professor, or at least you have to be in order to teach here at Hogwarts." Eyes curving, he said smoothly, "I'm _sure_ you know why I'm here."

"Rhetorical questions weren't meant to be answered." Purposefully direct, as that really was the best way to untangle oneself from a situation with Hatake, Snape responded stiffly, "Yes I do know. If you will excuse me, I am busy – too busy to cater to your whims."

He then slams the door at his face.

Stalking towards his desk, he was halted by the patient knocking against his classroom door. He decided not to answer it as he knew it was only Hatake…

…But by the seventieth knock, Snape was at the end of his wits and finally yanked the door open ready to reprimand the 'adult'…Except, the Potions master never got that chance.

Kakashi sauntered into the classroom as if he owned the place and said, "You're excused."

Snape took in several deep breathes, counting to ten backwards. He had a feeling that he'll be repeating that breathing exercise more than once before the clock hits noon.

* * *

**TBC**

~Phoenyxx


	11. 10: The September Woes

**Take Ten: **The September Woes (…round and round and round.)

* * *

Kakashi pretended to read his little dirty novella.

Snape pretended to ignore the 'intruder'.

Kakashi couldn't care less.

The students as they filed into the dungeon – because surely, this atmosphere was not a classroom – did an almost comical double take when they spotted him snug up against the corner of the room. Eavesdropping on the Gryffindors and Slytherins, both sides were expressing amazement that their Potions Master had yet to dropkick him out the door.

Kakashi would like to see Snape try.

"Attention," commanded Snape, voice slick. Unsurprisingly, the second years were silenced immediately. With a careless flick of a wand, the chalkboard displayed information about the Wiggenweld Potion except… "Today is review. Have this potion finished by the end of class today."

The students made a mad scramble and started to prepare the potion brewing process.

Sitting in his corner of the classroom, Kakashi circumspectly read through the instructions, trying to understand it with his limited knowledge. All he had to work with was the research on botany he did for Tsunade-sama and his conversations with Professor Sprout as well as the quick skim he did on a first year potions text. Looking at the list of ingredients for the potion, Kakashi cautiously concluded that it was a few ingredients short.

It was definitely a test to check for the competence level of the second years and it appears that few have caught on. Judging by Snape's expression, he was definitely displeased.

Kakashi rubbed at his neck in thought. To him, potion making was almost akin to medical arts and he was _abysmal _at medical arts. In fact, it was the one art he never succeeded in perfecting. Individuals with natural lightning chakra were never meant to heal and Kakashi Hatake was not a man patient enough to brew potions. But with the way his luck was going, he would probably need to know how to brew a potion of sorts to activate the Mangekyou Sharingan.

And if that ever happened, he did not look forward to the prospect of 'convincing' the man named Severus Snape into brewing the potion for him.

* * *

When the students finally settled, Snape made his rounds and provided snide commentary. Snape was making a great show of ignoring Kakashi at every turn and Kakashi? He was perfectly fine with that. In fact, he would love to see how long he could ignore him for and test his self-restraint…

He advised, "I wouldn't add that if I were you."

The mousy Gryffindor student jumped at his voice. Turning her head around, she stuttered, "Why?"

"Because the potion would explode," said Kakashi genially. That was a blatant lie.

She dropped the wrong ingredient like a hot potato. Snape, who was two benches away, shifted his eyes to glower at him before barking at another poor student for their ineptitude.

"Maaa…Your Professor always sound so angry," he said.

The mousy haired girl ducked her head. The boy beside her puffed up. "Snape likes to pick on us Gryffindors."

"Two points from Gryffindor for not doing your work in class," interrupted a smoothly dangerous voice. "And it's _Professor _Snape, boy."

"Y-Yes Professor."

Kakashi met this challenge head on and decided to destroy Snape's lesson to see how he would handle it. He announced loudly, "Professor Snape, I believe the potion written out at the front is wrong."

All the students paused and turned to look at them. Snape gave him an unreadable expression before scoffing, "Of course it is wrong. Any potion maker worth their grain would know it is wrong."

"Touché." Kakashi noted that Snape admitted it _was_ wrong yet he managed not to reveal _where_ it was wrong.

The students were decidedly more nervous now, hearing this, with a few frantic as they flipped through the pages of their potions text.

Snape growled at him, "If you'll excuse me."

Casually waving away the pleasantry ("You're excused again, Professor!"), Kakashi waltzed away first. Ambling towards the front of the classroom under Snape's watchful eyes, he lingered near the chalkboard. Quick eyes analyzed the jars lined up in rows at the back of the bench. There were many ingredients on display and he recognized that a few of them were actually listed as 'rare' in the botany texts he had read earlier.

To the side of this bench on the table, he spotted a tattered copy of an advanced potions text. Surprisingly it was opened to a page describing a love potion called the _Amortentia_-

"W-Watch out Mr. Hatake!" yelped a pre-pubescent Gryffindor student.

A sputtering potion boiled into an angry red before it exploded and it _almost_ splattered on him except he managed to evade in time with a kneejerk reaction. His evasion technique, though, drew unwanted attention. Everyone stopped their actions and stared, flabbergasted.

"You…" Snape's face morphed into one of disgust. "Get off of my walls, Hatake."

Bowing almost comically on the vertical surface, Kakashi spoke past his violet scarf, "Certainly, Professor." He landed in a graceful crouch, much to the students' amazement.

"Did you see that-?"

"So the rumours are true!"

"Settle down." Anger striking, Snape disciplined, "Ten points from Gryffindor for the mess. Another five points for rowdiness."

"Hey-!"

"-_Shut up_."

"Another five points for language."

Effectively silenced, the Gryffindors collectively glared at their Professor.

A Slytherin sitting at the front took the quiet opportunity to ask rudely, catching everyone's attention, "How'd you do that?"

His friend who sat beside him egged on, "What kind of spell did you use?"

A single grey eye stared down at them and they sweated bullets before he relented, his eye crinkling – a signature sign of his smile. "It's a secret. Ask Professor Snape. He might know."

Snape glared at him but said nothing, much to the students' shock.

_Checkmate._ Kakashi knew Snape would not admit to weakness. He was done here for today.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a dog to feed." The shinobi waved. "Bye, Professor Snape. Consider the footprints on the wall as a thank you gift for your welcome."

* * *

The Owlery was warm when he called his messenger hawk from her perch. Without a greeting, Kakashi began to slip the heavy missive into her claw. Awaji nipped at his fingers reprovingly.

"Yes. I know. Another flight already. You can take it out on our Hokage-sama for being such a slave driver, neh," grumbled Kakashi when his bird showed sass.

With a loud cry as if in agreement, the bird shifted her foot out further, letting him tie the mission statement to the appendage with deft hands…

* * *

A portkey vortex appeared high in the air. A swift shape flew out of the portal just as it collapsed on itself. Swooping, Awaji caught the air current under the large span of her wings, sensing the familiar change in atmosphere.

_Home_.

Tilting, she flew off at a moderate pace, carrying her master's important messages. Greenscape rushed by underneath her belly. And as she neared her destination, she began noticing the thinning of trees, signalling the start of expansive training fields.

As she soared by, there were two girls below, one pink-haired the other blond-headed, sparring.

"Just give up!" One of them taunted.

"Not a chance-!"

As she flew further into the Village Hidden in the Leaves, it became more and more populated. Shinobi and civilian milled around, going about their activities. In the far distance was her roost, the Hokage Tower, and the Hokage Monument. Twirling in midair, pin wheeling, she spotted one boy lazing on the hill while another one snacked away.

Preparing to fly away, the breeze managed to carry their loud, outraged, voices upwards.

"…Pheref 'rhat warsh clrosh."

"Stupid bird…"

The boy swallowed his food. "You're lucky I'm here. Lost a chip but blocked that for you."

"Yea…Yea…Thanks Chouji…"

…She may have accidentally released a 'gift' for the young shinobi when she flew away.

* * *

Kakashi sneezed once.

"Bless you boss."

"Thank you Uhei."

Idling minutes away, he sneezed again when he flipped a page of his precious _Icha Icha Paradise_.

* * *

009720

Mission: _C-rank_

Mission Objective(s): _Complete_.

Items obtained. See enclosed.

Additional Notes: _Instructor profiles updated._

* * *

In the privacy of her office, Tsunade unrolled the second scroll attached to Kakashi's messenger bird. A mist of smoke revealed the mission statement – neat, precise words aligned in columns – and the mission objectives.

A smirk appeared. With delicate handling, she examined the seeds carefully and scrutinized the soft rose-like flowers.

"Ah…So you did succeed."

Grumbling under her breath, she twirled the delicate flower between her fingers and read the mission statement.

* * *

Hokage-sama,

09-02. Mission start. Morning after "Sorting Ceremony Feast". 0230 hour. Trap was set in Greenhouse Three (Refer to "Blueprint of Hogwarts Castle"). Encountered no resistance. On your order, will likely advise Headmaster Dumbledore to increase Greenhouse security.

09-02. 0800 hour. Herbology Class start. Students: Fourth Year Gryffindors and Fourth Year Hufflepuffs (Refer to "Social System of Hogwarts"). At 0815 hour, trap was sprung. Professor Pomona Sprout and myself were the only casualties. Injuries that occurred were minor and self-afflicted. No harm to bystanders. Bisuke was guard.

09-02. 0830 to 1200 hour. Brought to Infirmary (Refer to "Blueprint of Hogwarts Castle") under accompaniment of Bisuke and Sprout. Medic Poppy Pomfrey was at standby.

Two of three mission objectives completed.

_One:_ Trust of resident Herbologist and Medic obtained (09-12. Current trust status is questionable. Refer to "Student Unification Project: Saturday Mission").

_Two:_ Has been given common immunity potions and advanced antitoxin potions (Refer to attached list). Pomfrey asserts consumption promotes health. My professional opinion lands on the other side of the spectrum. Obtained "Blood Replenishing Potion" recipe.

Additional Notes: Chakra and magic do not mix internally (Tsunade-sama, the use of red ink asserts my strong opinion). I do not recommend field medical treatment via magical potion means.

* * *

"Che. Figures he'd play up the melodrama..." Tsunade shuffled the papers and found the list of potions, reading the magical jargon.

Tsunade knew he disliked medical treatment which was why she forced him, under a guise of a mission, to suffer through a minor injury so as to receive medical treatment from the wizards. Not only that, but it was also done to raise his nonexistent magical immunity in case he became afflicted with a magical disease of sorts.

She rolled her eyes. Heaven forbid he would go willingly.

* * *

09-09. First encounter with Sprout after 09-06 "Student Unification Project: Saturday Mission".

Third of three mission objectives completed.

_Three:_ Obtained rare floral specimen and seed, _Gui Fa_.

* * *

_(Back on September 09)_

Today was a good day.

Humming happily, Pomona Sprout tended to the last of the squalling Mandrake for the Second Years. She then patted down the loose soil gently with her hand shovel, careful and mindful in her ministrations. Bustling to the next table over, she grabbed a pair of clippers and began pruning a magical decorative cherry tree. The violet fire flowers had begun blooming again, burning brightly on the branches in an everlasting blaze.

She was in deep concentration when she was interrupted by a sudden knock on the greenhouse door.

Thinking it was a student, she bade them entry without looking. "Come in, come in."

Knob rattling briefly, the door squeaked open. "…Professor Sprout?"

Sprout immediately turned, the voice much too deep and _accented_ to be a student. Warily, she placed her clippers down and greeted, "Hullo, Mr. Hatake, out of the hole you buried yourself into? What can I do for you?"

Rubbing the back of his neck in an almost nervous manner, Kakashi intoned hesitatingly, "I have a little problem…" His other hand was curiously behind his back, as if hiding something from view.

Sprout paused. On the one hand, he _did_ single-handedly embarrass the staff of Hogwarts. On the other hand, he saved her from the falling rack of pots that one time. He was also a generally secretive colleague who tended to not socialize so it was a definite oddity for him to reach out for help.

As if taking her silence as a 'yes', Mr. Hatake walked into the greenhouse and presented a pitiful potted plant. The sparse leaves were wilted to a dreadful yellow-brown and speckled black from disease. "Ahh…I have a problem with this."

Taking the clay pot into her hands, Sprout turned the plant in circles and tsked. "I'm sorry to say this, Mr. Hatake, but this plant has seen better days." Here her brows furrowed. "Though, I must ask, this plant-?"

"-This plant is a family heirloom," interrupted the Mediator.

"A family heirloom you say?" Sprout schooled her features to minimize the surprise she felt.

"Yes, he has been passed down from generation to generation." Kakashi grinned, eye curving. "You see, my great-great-great grandfather was a farmer of sorts, cultivating rice from rice paddies and one day a samurai-"

"Your family history is fine and dandy, Mr. Hatake, but I think I will need more related information to help you." Sprout sighed, "And perhaps I am mistaken…but…What _is_ this?"

Because to her, it looked like a weed.

Kakashi explained with a note of sadness, "He was a Dandy Lion."

By Jove, it _was_ a dandelion weed.

"My family believed that if tended properly, he can become the legendary Wish Flower."

A _wish flower_. Imagine that. "That sounds…astounding." She gestured at the diseased weed. "How did this happen?"

"He was growing just fine back home but for some reason at Hogwarts he became…What you say in English? Droopy?" The man shuffled a careless hand through dark hair, looking at her imploringly.

"There is only so much I can do for an unfortunately dead plant," said Sprout apologetically.

"Ah…" His shoulders fell. "No magical potions?"

"No magical potions," confirmed the Herbology Professor. "I am quite sorry about your…heirloom."

He stared at his pet plant. "Then maybe you can help me with something else?"

Sprout, taking in his pitiful expression and feeling her heartstrings pulled, sighed, "I'll do my best."

A dichotomy. He sighed but his visible eye regarded her steadily, brightly. "Would you happen to know anything about the _Gui Fa_?"

* * *

Tsunade looked at the bouquet of _Gui Fa_. The _Gui Fa_, noted for its healing properties, will be an asset to the Fire Country's medical team.

It was unfortunate that the flora went extinct thirty years ago within the borders of the Land of Fire, wiped away by a crippling disease and poor weather conditions. Now that there were advancements in botany, they were capable of cultivating the _Gui Fa_ once more. Perhaps they can even make advancements in certain growth drugs with its essence.

Setting the flora aside, she read the last of his missive. It was an update on three of the professors that she previously asked about.

* * *

Professor Hagrid, Rubeus.

Title: Keeper of Keys and Grounds.

Teaching Subject: Care of Magical Creatures.

New Comments: Limited interaction. Holds a fascination with magical creatures of all shapes, sizes, and risk levels (from harmless to death-inducing). Commented that he once had a pet dragon – INADVISABLE.

As mentioned previously, large in stature but relatively docile. Will need to do further observations.

* * *

Professor Snape, Severus.

Title: Potions Master.

Teaching Subject: Potions.

New Comments: _Dour. _Possibly had a wizard-standard bad childhood – explains treatment of persons under eighteen. Does not explain away general oversensitive defensive mechanism (Side note: Negative reaction often geared towards Moody's appearance. Moody appears to be aware of this development. Will investigate further).

Appears to be in Headmaster Dumbledore's confidence. Knows more than he lets on. Hokage-sama, will not pry unless order is given to do so.

Current situation prevents collaboration with Snape unless one or all of three objectives are met:

_One:_ Blackmail.

_Two:_ Order was given from Headmaster Dumbledore.

_Three:_ Change in situation and he owes me a favour – will consider a strategy to obtain favour _if absolutely necessary_. Owing him a favour – _**INADVISABLE**_.

* * *

Professor Moody, Alastor.

Title: Retired Auror.

Teaching Subject: Defence Against the Dark Arts.

New Comments: Rumored and confirmed by Dumbledore that Moody accepted the position at Hogwarts to fulfill a longstanding favour to Dumbledore. Two weeks into the school year and he has 'enchanted' the students. Is a curious man with curious behaviour. This is confirmed via tracking.

Moody is known to stalk my movements around the castle. Is known to keep tabs on other Professors as well…

* * *

Tsunade squinted her eyes, trying to read the scratched out (unprofessional, childish) scrawl at the end of Moody's description. When she did, she snorted a quiet "hypocrite" under her breath.

It read, "_In short, Moody is a paranoid bastard_."

* * *

_(Elsewhere in the Hokage Tower)_

"Shizune-san…Is something the matter?"

Startled, Shizune jolted in her seat, laughing nervously. "Ah Iruka-san! I didn't notice you."

Iruka, with a bemused smile, went towards his desk at the mission office. Airily, he said over his shoulder, "I think the red ink is running through the paper and into your desk."

"Oh?" Looking down at the paperwork in front of her and then noticing that she had been circling the same word over and over again, she cringed. "Umm…"

"Actually, you seem more distracted than anything else," he commented patiently.

Shizune tapped the pen against the desk in an upbeat rhythm. "Is it really that obvious?" she asked, wry.

Iruka nodded while grinning boyishly. "A little, Shizune-san." He sat in his seat.

Tsunade's assistant bit her lip before sidling up to Iruka's desk. She whispered conspiratorially, "I have a question, Iruka-san, that needs to be answered truthfully."

"What is it?" Suddenly nervous, Iruka scratched at his cheek. "You sound very serious."

"I _am_ very serious." Shizune cleared her throat and said, "Have you noticed anything strange recently? Strange behaviours or…?" She trailed off, looking at him expectantly.

"Well…We live in a Hidden Village," said Iruka as if that explained everything. And indeed, it was a good blanket statement to cover all the eccentricities of their shinobi and kunoichi.

"Yes but, nothing really out of place?" pried Shizune.

"Now that you mention it…" Iruka shrugged, "You."

The reaction was immediate. "Ah Iruka-san!" Shizune slapped the poor teacher roughly on the shoulder. "That's too mean!"

Turning a bit red from embarrassment, Iruka laughed, "Sorry."

"So you haven't noticed anything strange…" muttered Shizune almost to herself. "And I haven't either…Hmm…."

Iruka inquired curiously, sensing the underlying reason to be an interesting one, "Why do you ask?"

Shizune seemed to pause and size him up. Just as the situation took a turn towards uncomfortable, she said, "Maybe you can help me…"

"What is it, Shizune-san?"

"You see…That is…" She fumbled for the words. "I saw flowers today. On her desk."

There was a lull in the conversation as Iruka digested her words. Tonton ambled over and took that opportunity to nibble on the hem of Iruka's pants.

Iruka nodded slowly, trying to process the information. "On whose desk, exactly?"

She whispered quietly, "Lady Tsunade's."

His eyebrows rose. "Really?"

Encouraged, Shizune said, "…I think Lady Tsunade might have a secret admirer."

"A _what_?"

"Shh-!"

"A secret _admirer_?" continued Iruka, yelping out loudly.

Shizune made frantic hand movements trying to calm the surprised teacher but it was too late. She laughed nervously, voice trailing as all eyes in the mission room ogled them with interest.

She whispered despairingly, "Iruka-san!"

"…Sorry?" he squeaked.

The spell was broken when-

"-SHIZUNE!"

– their reverent Hokage called for her aide.

In the mission room filled to the brim with supposedly mature shinobi and kunoichi of the Leaf, their peers erupted into giggles, elbows digging into ribs, fingers pointing at Shizune and Iruka in an arcing link. Whispers of 'secret admirer' swirled around the pair. Ignoring his fellows, Iruka sank into the seat deeply with belated dread while he watched the gossip exchange.

"I _knew_ something was going on between you two!" chortled Anko, leering at Shizune.

She looked absolutely scandalized. "Anko!" With a burning face, Shizune answered pitifully, "Yes, Lady Tsunade!" She scurried out of the mission office, chased by the rumours.

What no one noticed, however, was the sly look Kotetsu and Izumo shared between them…

So _Hokage-sama_ had a secret admirer…?

* * *

With the necessary tasks delegated to a strangely red-faced Shizune (the young woman, from time to time, would stray her eyes onto the bouquet of _Gui Fa_, seemingly fascinated), Tsunade dismissed her aide. Alone in her office with files upon files of missions stacked on almost every available square inch of the desk, Tsunade contemplated the next step for Kakashi.

But she was interrupted.

"Hokage-sama!"

She issued a curt statement demanding an answer. "What is it."

ANBU Cat emerged through the window, shadows still languidly hanging off their limbs in the bright noon sunlight.

"A new hawk just arrived at 1351. We managed to confirm that the scroll stolen from Sand was transported to a new location - a top grade stronghold within the Land of Earth territory."

"…So it might be the Rock-nin…" speculated Tsunade. "And the stronghold – a remnant from the war?"

"Yes. It has been confirmed by the scouts in Squad Delta." Cat added, "We have triangulated the coordinates."

Without another word, Cat gave Tsunade the information scroll. Unfurling it, she quickly scanned through the contents, pursed her lips together, and barked out another command, "ANBU Sparrow."

ANBU Sparrow appeared in a swirl of smoke. "Yes, Hokage-sama."

"I want you to find all information listed in our archives on this stronghold. Check for information about Rock activity in the area." She tossed the scroll to Sparrow, who caught it easily. "Report back immediately with your findings."

"Understood, Hokage-sama." The ANBU agent bowed.

"Dismissed, Sparrow."

With another swirl of smoke, the agent was gone. Tsunade then addressed Cat, "Take these seeds and deliver them to our botany department, along with this letter containing the instructions." She handed Cat the package and letter that was from Kakashi. "Tell them that this contains an extremely rare specimen so handle with care."

"Yes, Hokage-sama."

"Good. And when you get back, I have another task for you…" Tsunade trailed off, twirling a fully bloomed _Gui Fa_ between her thumb and index finger.

Dumbledore might have metaphorical avenues of escape planned out but Tsunade made sure to secure exit routes for her shinobi too. It would not do at all for Kakashi to be ensconced tightly by Wizardry politics.

No…It would not do at all.

Tsunade glanced at Cat sharply, "Understood, Cat?"

"Understood."

"Dismissed."

When ANBU Cat disappeared from her office in a flicker, she placed the _Gui Fa_ back onto her desk and began drafting a letter.

* * *

Kakashi sneezed again.

Limpid pools trained on him imploringly. "I hope you're not sick."

"Of course not."

Uhei snuffed disbelievingly.

* * *

The silver instruments in Dumbledore's office clicked away in steady motion, hard at work for reasons only the owner knew of. The steam sporadically released fogged the windows in smatterings of blues and purples. Fawkes watched on in boredom, head drooping towards his crest.

Dumbledore sat behind his desk in contemplation. In front of him, laid out on the flat surface, was a muggle map of London with magical London superimposed on top of the image. With various little silver flags, he decorated the map with locations for ideal sightseeing and history learning.

"What do you suggest, Fawkes?" murmured the old Headmaster.

His loyal bird cooed softly.

"I believe a jaunt out of Hogwarts will do our guest some good."

He shifted his feathers.

"Yes, I agree with your assessment. Mr. Hatake is becoming mighty restless."

Trilling sweetly, the phoenix left his perch to stand on the map. Fawkes tilted his head from side to side.

"Yes, I'm sure you're wondering about the guide." Gently stroking the bird's feathers, he said mildly, "I am thinking through the likely candidates."

Fawkes blinked.

"All the Professors are tied up at the moment with classes…" Dumbledore suggested, "Maybe Shacklebolt?"

Fawkes blinked again.

"No, no, you're right. He had enough trouble from Dolores last time."

Cooing, the phoenix picked at his feathers, grooming himself.

"Mr. Hatake does have an affinity towards canine." Dumbledore considered deeply, a gnarled hand sweeping through his white beard. Perhaps maybe…

Fawkes ruffled his feathers again, fluff drifting.

Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling, "I believe that will be a wonderful idea too."

Shuffling across the desk, the bird hummed curiously.

"Yes, I'm sure Remus Lupin will agree to help." Peering at the bird from above the rim of his spectacles, he announced, "Now to tell Mr. Hatake about the arrangements."

* * *

Another sneeze.

"Boss…"

"I'm just popular with the masses," said Kakashi, deadpanned. "I'm on the thoughts of everyone."

Utterly unconvinced, Uhei sighed, dragging a blanket towards Kakashi and throwing it over his head.

Kakashi stayed silent, letting the world filter through the heavy material. At that moment, though, the door creaked open, admitting in another one of his furry companions.

There was a pause in their step before Kakashi heard Akino ask Uhei, "…Why does Master Kakashi have a blanket over his head?"

* * *

It was the last week of September with October inching just around the corner. The Thursday evening was relatively uneventful with the majority of the student body milling in the dining hall – a mixture of hungry, half-full, and sated individuals.

However, like all fourth-week-in-a-month Thursdays, calculated Professor Vector, there was a higher than normal chance of a strange occurrence. Vector bit into her bean sprouts rather triumphantly when Professor Dumbledore stood up at the end of dinner, hands raised to gather attention.

Professor Charity Burbage of Muggle Studies fiddled with the rice bits on her plate as she discreetly whispered to her, "What do you suppose he is announcing?"

Flitwick, who sat on her other side, must have heard Burbage for he heaved a great sigh in response. The Charms Professor smiled wanly, "I believe our Headmaster has a very interesting proclamation."

Before Burbage could ask for more information, Dumbledore started his speech and Vector listened with the rest of Hogwarts.

"As you all know, the current points system is divided to four houses. Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff each have their own point tallies and the one house with the highest points at the end of the year will receive the House Cup," said Dumbledore.

"I will also like to take this opportunity to remind you that we will not be holding the inter-house Quidditch competition due to the Triwizard Tournament and that means fewer chances to add House points." Smiling genially, Dumbledore continued, a mite excited, "Therefore, this year I have decided to add a different twist in your quest for the House Cup."

This caught the students' attention.

"This will be a test run, if you will. Taking into consideration various opinions-"

Vector had a feeling 'various opinions' included the strange Hogwarts Mediator.

"-I am happy to announce the new 4000 Points Rule."

Chatter amongst the students erupted. At her elbow, Flitwick rubbed at his forehead, uncharacteristically sighing, "Oh, Philosopher's Stone."

Glancing around, Vector noted that the other Head of Houses, save for Sprout, must have shared Flitwick's sentiments for their expressions were strained.

"Attention, attention," said Dumbledore, quieting down the voices. "This 4000 Points Rule was initially suggested by Mr. Hatake-"

_I knew it._ Vector did not feel reassured by her correct assumption though.

"-to unite Hogwarts under one cause. At the end of the school year, we will tally up the points from all four houses and if the points surpass 4000, an award will be given to the entire student body."

The students perked up at the mention of an award.

"Yes, this award, however, will be issued by Mr. Hatake and for now, shall remain secret." Here, Dumbledore joked good-naturedly, "Even I, the Headmaster, am not privy to this information!"

The joke was met with a lukewarm reception as the students deflated at the mention of Mr. Hatake. Not disheartened in the least, Dumbledore ended his announcement, "The official announcement of the 4000 Points Rule will be posted in the Great Hall by tomorrow morning. And its implementation will start at midnight tonight." Clapping twice, he concluded, "Thank you and good night."

* * *

In the uproar caused by Dumbledore's announcement, the Head Boy and Head Girl searched for each other across the hall and shared eye contact. Nodding simultaneously, they were both thinking of the same thing.

It was time for an Emergency Meeting.

* * *

Cross-legged on the ground, Cedric leaned forward attentively, watching as the other prefects enter the secret Prefects' bathroom. To his left perched on a settee was quiet Mary, a nice, agreeable girl who was his Hufflepuff peer.

"Where are the others?" grumbled Amelia, the Gryffindor prefect.

"Now, now Amelia," placated Marc, her counterpart. "I'm sure they'll be here soon." He kicked back in his seat, looking at ease.

The one who just entered, the French Ravenclaw prefect, exclaimed loudly as he sat down on the couch beside Marc. Philippe exclaimed, "_Incroyable_! 4000 Points Rule?"

His partner, Natasia, was stone-faced as she leaned against the sofa. "…Where is Slytherin?"

Picking at the carpet lint, Cedric glanced up at the Head Boy, Bradley of Ravenclaw, when he spoke coolly, "Heard they're helping Snape with an errand."

Sari, the Head Girl from Gryffindor, turned her head when the portrait to the entrance inched open. Marc called out, "Pip pip! Let's get this meeting started."

Catharine, one of two Slytherin prefects, rolled her eyes sarcastically at the Gryffindor and sat down on the seat Natasia was leaning against. Jakob, burly and large but offset by a rather soft, glasses-adorned face, nodded at Bradley tersely.

As everyone settled, it was Sari who started the meeting. "As everyone knows, Dumbledore just instated a new 4000 Points Rule."

Philippe growled in disgust.

"And how are we supposed to achieve something like this? The yearly average is about 400 points per house with a total average of about 1600 points altogether. _C'est horrible_!"

Cedric echoed his sentiments. "We also don't have Quidditch to get the extra points either."

Scratching at her freckled cheeks, Mary pointed out, "It's Saturday in two days."

At the mention of Saturday, the group of student leaders felt disheartened and frustrated.

"Humph." Catharine tapped her fingers against the arm of the chair. "Saturday," she sneered. "The squib makes all these weak excuses to deduct points."

Marc swept back his brown hair. "Well we can't afford to lose 37 points each like last week."

"And whose fault was that, Gryffindor?" scoffed the female Slytherin.

Jakob rumbled, "Only because of McGonagall those 150 points were divided onto us."

"Whatever." Amelia waved away the glares from the other houses. "So what's the game plan?"

Bradley spoke calmly, "Sari and I have discussed. There is no going around the new rule except to be cautious and avoid losing points for…frivolous reasons."

Sari added, "As for Saturday, we have a plan but we will need the cooperation of all four Houses."

"Mr. Hatake can't possibly deduct points if everyone shows up on Saturday morning."

* * *

It was Friday evening. Outside, the half-moon provided a wane glow, leaving multiple angles in the school library untouched. Dark save for the dim flickering candlelight, Kakashi was alone (Madam Pince was long gone at his persistent insistence), sitting in an isolated corner by the large bay windows.

Hairs raising along his nape, he rolled his shoulders to relieve the tension. He was researching again. Books were piled around him on the floor and on the desk, papers overflowing with his cursive script. Currently he was perusing a second year potions text to cover the basics of that part of wizardry art. Resting a cheek on one hand, Kakashi was about to casually flip to the next page when a rustling noise caught his attention.

Absolutely still, he listened, concentrating, and then relaxed. Kakashi's dark eye roved through the new page in front of him as he waited for his visitor to arrive.

And arrive she did – a silent shadow fluttering through the rows of books. Alighting onto the table, her claws skittered across polished wood for purchase before finally grabbing onto his arm in a firm grip. Awaji raised her other dainty foot at Kakashi, waiting for him to untie the message.

"Hello to you too."

Detaching the missive, Kakashi unfurled the scroll and read through the contents. The blazing red stamp that sealed the mission as 'C-rank' caught his attention first.

"_But a long distance C-rank mission for _ANBU_…?"_

That was new.

He looked at the details. A stronghold in the Land of Earth. In fact, it was a stronghold that he conquered in a mission nearly fifteen years ago. ANBU needed a blueprint of the area…"And it has to be finished…By tomorrow morning?"

Glancing at Awaji almost accusingly, the messenger bird in response cooed with sympathy. Kakashi sighed and spread a blank piece of parchment paper out in front of him.

He muttered to himself, ("I may be the Copy Ninja but I'm not one of those muggle 'photocopying machines' Dumbledore rambled about…And it's been _fifteen years_…What is Hokage-sama asking from me…?")

Behind him, the sand in the hourglass sitting by the desk continued to trickle to zero.

* * *

"Attention. Attention."

The common room within the Hufflepuff dormitories were packed with students but the students were not enjoying the Friday night. No games of chess or exploding snaps were being played. Instead an anxious energy was thrumming in the air.

The students were uneasy.

Cedric calmly waited as the students settled down for his speech. Once quiet, the prefect started, "Tonight is Friday. Tomorrow is-"

* * *

"-tomorrow is Saturday." Murmurs erupted from the crowd of Ravenclaws. At this time, the Ravenclaws were simultaneously holding their meeting within their dormitory. "Now I know our House has been good about attending the morning gatherings. But this time, we need the solidarity of the entire House."

"Tomorrow. We will gain back the House points we lost. If every single soul is present, Mr. Hatake will have no choice but to give 150 points tomorrow to the four Houses and –"

* * *

"-and if that damned squib still deduct points, we'll make his life a living hell," heckled Catharine. "Things have changed since Dumbledore decided to cater to the squib's whims."

"Disgusting," piped a voice at the back.

"Especially the 4000 point tally."

The lot grumbled.

"Which is exactly why we have to show the strength of Slytherin and not fall behind the other Houses-"

* * *

"-because it's Gryffindor pride. Gryffindor strength. Gryffindor family. And we're all gonna go because, one, we don't want to hurt Gryffindor pride and two, Slytherins are just pain in the _asses_-"

"-Here, here!"

"Yea, and these pain in the asses will be jeering at us 'til our dying days if we don't show."

One student pumped an arm into the air. "Let's show that Mediator that we can't be bossed around in our home, Hogwarts."

There was a loud agreement to that statement.

The prefect clapped her hands sharply for attention. "Then hop to it, boys and girls."

"Bedtime."

* * *

As if an omen, the clock tower in the distance near the Quidditch pitch chimed ominously. It struck midnight. The onset of Saturday placed everyone on edge as each heavy chime was the mimic of an imagined war drum…

Will Kakashi Hatake's messengers arrive?

And arrive they did. At oh-one-hundred hour, they came swooping into their rooms with aplomb. Black shadows of the night dropped slips of parchment paper onto each prefects' 'sleeping' faces.

…But they were ready…

* * *

It was _five-fifty-eight_ in the morning. The prefects, stoic, stood at the front of their representative House. The Head Boy and Head Girl, their unofficial leaders, stared unwaveringly at the Quidditch Pitch bleachers, _waiting_.

The students, a single unit, a complete representation of the Hogwarts army, had their collective breaths held in-

_Five-fifty-nine._

They waited.

Seconds ticked by.

…And waited.

_Six-zero-zero._

…

_Six-zero-one._

Murmurs floated. "I'm sure he'll be here soon…"

"…But it's already…"

…

_Six-twenty-one._

And…

Guess what?

_Waited._

(If a Team by the name of Seven existed in Hogwarts, they would've laughed long and hard.

Yes. Long and hard because for once, they were not the victims of Kakashi Hatake's infamous lateness.)

* * *

The tension broke at seven-thirty in the morning.

A chorus of student voices, loud and shrill, reverberated throughout the entire castle, demanding a quick, decisive explanation (_blood_, even).

"_Where is he_?"

The 'he' in question, face planted between a stack of books and his rolled up makeshift blueprint, snorted and woke up with a start. Kakashi rubbed the back of his aching neck and muttered, "Must have fallen asleep in the library…"

* * *

**To Be Continued**

**A/N: **To all the reviewers who previously left lovely reviews – thank you. I'm sorry if you didn't receive a response (though I do respond to reviews on the first few weeks after a new chapter is released lol).

As for the students…All will be revealed next chapter – the _actual _events that took place (Ah the slowly becoming infamous Saturdays). There's nothing particularly groundbreaking about this chapter _but_ events mentioned in this chapter are necessary for the setup of other activities sooo…

Have fun kids :) Can't you hear the "_You're late!_" already?

~Phoenyxx


	12. 11: Silver Sickles

**Take Eleven:** Silver Sickles (are Ninja Props)

* * *

The Quidditch Pitch at seven-thirty in the morning was the location of a raucous affair, filled with the entire outraged student population in what would have been considered a muggle fire hazard. To the side in a small loose group, the student leaders conversed in low voices.

"What. The. Hell. This is absolute bollocks!"

Marc patted Amelia's shoulder. "Language, my dear."

Grumbling in disgust, Catharine rolled her eyes at the constant 'camaraderie' displayed by the Gryffindors.

Amelia took offense to her actions immediately and bristled, "Do you have something to say?"

"Maybe I do," taunted the younger Slytherin.

"Calm," intervened Sari, almond eyes glancing at both parties coolly to try and quell the rising tempers and clashing personalities. She then addressed another, "Philippe, was there something you wanted to mention?"

He twittered. "_C'est éstrange_, _non_?" The Ravenclaw rested his chin against his fist, thinking deeply. "To think, Mr. Hatake was quite on time for the first two meetings…"

A long pause followed. Mary, picking at her casual sweater, commented slowly, "…He was early both times, I think."

"If my sources are credible, he was the first to arrive to the previous appointments," intoned Natasia. She ignored the indignant squawk from Philippe ("Sources? What sources? Where are _my_ sources?") and concluded, "So yes, he was early for both meetings."

"Then why is he late today…?" pondered Cedric.

Bradley corrected offhandedly, "A better question might be 'what exactly is he planning'."

"And what we should do, instead of aimless wondering-" proposed Jakob, the other Slytherin perfect, coldly, "-is stop him and these absurd meetings."

"That's madness in and itself," grumbled Amelia pointedly. "And I bet you know it. If the Professors, who are supposed to stand on equal grounds with him, can barely stop him, then what makes you think we can?"

Catharine sniffed, "Pleasantries and formalities."

Before Amelia could grumble at her, Cedric asked cautiously, "What do you mean by that?"

The Slytherin obliged silkily, "The Professors can't do anything because of formalities. That, and there's also Dumbledore to consider."

"I concur," said Natasia. "For Hatake to have this much freedom…The go-ahead must be from Dumbledore-"

"-and the fact that he's the Ministry's foreign diplomat!" concluded Philippe with a tinge of horror in his voice. His mind clicked. "_Mes amis_, I'm afraid our actions won't only affect the balance in Hogwarts but also the political landscape!"

The prefects fell into an uneasy silence. Bradley, their Head Boy, spoke up frankly, "Although that might be true, I doubt our intentions will cause a rift between the Asian and British Ministries."

"And I do get a sense of friendship between the Headmaster and Mr. Hatake," pointed out Mary quietly. "I don't think Mr. Hatake would want a radical _damaging_ change at Hogwarts."

"Right, because radical changes are alright as long as they aren't damaging," sneered Catharine.

Mary coloured slightly and Cedric stepped in again, "Just because we don't agree with Mr. Hatake's methods it doesn't mean that he isn't correct – not saying that he is." Cedric backtracked hastily when Jakob glared at him.

Jakob, pushing his glasses up from the ridge of his nose, spat scathingly, "The '4000 Point Rule' is a childish challenge and taunt."

"…He did indeed give us a near impossible task," said Sari. "But like Bradley and I agreed, we can't stop the Headmaster unless we plan to ignore this challenge…"

Although not spoken out loud, the student leaders knew that Hogwarts' pride was on the line.

Bradley concluded grimly, "Anyway, I'm sure you all agree with me. We will need to be on our toes for the next hour. We can't be sure what Hatake is planning-"

No sooner did those words leave his mouth when in that moment, the doors of the Quidditch Pitch locker rooms slammed open dramatically. Collectively, the student leaders – nay, the entire school – turned to the source of the disturbance. A figure appeared at the shadowy threshold, aura exhibiting control, and when they just about stepped into the dawn light, the students finally _woke_ and cried an earsplitting-

"YOU'RE _LATE_!"

The figure faltered at the accusation. However with even greater grimness and determination, they crossed their arms and stalked towards the student population like a preying feline.

Striking an impressive figure, McGonagall glowered at the massive, thoroughly embarrassed gathering (because how could they have mistaken the shadowy slighter figure of McGonagall to the reedy Mediator?). Mary hid her face behind her hands while the rest of the prefects shifted their feet uneasily.

"The entire student body…" McGonagall questioned primly, eying the students and their leaders with dourness, "Someone explain to me now. What is going _on_?"

* * *

Exiting the library with arms over his head in a stretch, Kakashi felt a vague unease nagging at the back of his mind. His gut instincts were flaring and the back of his neck, yet again, prickled uncomfortably.

He felt as if he was forgetting something…

Shrugging, he slipped warm fingers into the pockets of his pants, sauntering towards the Great Hall. He took a moment to note the sky blue hourglass sitting on a high shelf above the window; it was filled to the 'seven-forty-seven' notch.

Hm. Seven-forty-seven…

Proceeding along, he was surprised by the lack of students milling around. Normally, there would be a sizeable crowd of students awake at this time to breakfast or otherwise go about their activities. Surely they did not miss the freedom of this day _that_ much to collectively…

"…sleep in," murmured Kakashi out loud. His voice had echoed into the eerily empty room…Well, not entirely empty. Walking into the Great Hall, there was not a soul to be found except for one Alastor Moody, electric-blue eyeball rolling in the socket.

Lounging at the Professors' table, Moody stood up with a dull clunk and intercepted the ninja.

"Hatake."

"Good day, Professor." He tilted his head to the side. "No students around to keep breakfast interesting?"

The scarred face pulled into a smirk. Moody procured an object from his robes and he flipped it once into the air before catching it. He then tossed it towards Kakashi.

Kakashi caught it effortlessly.

Moody rasped, "Thanks for letting me borrow it."

With a raucous laugh, the ex-Auror strode off briskly into the direction of Hogwarts' only sports arena.

Kakashi uncurled his fingers and stared at the silver sickle resting in the palm of his hand. It was the same Sickle he left on Moody's desk two weeks ago. Mind turning over this piece of information, he came to a conclusion. "Hm…I see…So that's what happened."

Looking up, he pocketed the currency and with long strides followed Moody across Hogwarts grounds to the Quidditch Pitch.

* * *

He heard McGonagall's voice before he saw her.

"-What is going _on_?"

"I think I can answer that for you, Professor," he called out calmly. "It's a gathering of students." Beside him, Moody snorted.

In a snap of robes and cloaks, McGonagall spun around and let loose a strangled, "_You_."

Both Kakashi and Moody entered the Quidditch Pitch and confronted the wizards and witches within. McGonagall stood with her arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently. Behind McGonagall, the angry students shot him extremely dirty, _dirty_ looks. Kakashi rubbed the back of his head and opted to ignore the ruffled students in favour of the one in charge. "Yes me. Good morning, Professor McGonagall."

"Mr. Hatake, care to explain this?" She impressively looked down at him with her shorter stature. "Argus was quite beside himself-" Here, Kakashi thought a derisive 'in excitement, probably'. "-wondering why every single last student was standing at attention since the crack of dawn for no apparent reason."

"I believe you usually round up the students at six in the morning on Saturdays, don't you, Mr. Hatake?" egged Moody.

That was all McGonagall needed to retort in a clipped manner, "Six in the morning and you don't show up until _eight_."

"Well." Kakashi shrugged. "Well." He then dropped a bombshell, completely unrepentant. "The lateness really isn't my problem."

The students who heard him made noises of disbelief.

"Not your problem?" McGonagall's voice snapped at each word sharply. "Punctuality is definitely your own _personal _problem!"

He raised his hands up, placating. "Maa…Professor, perhaps we can discuss this privately before this matter is blown out of proportion?"

Moody chortled, evidently amused at this situation, but he agreed with the shinobi gruffly, "The students are watching, Professor."

The witch seemed to collect herself under the firm reminder and nodded curtly, "Very well."

It was then did matters become even more interesting – or at least, the students certainly thought so.

("Oh my gosh, it's a conspiracy! It's a conspiracy!" uttered a little first year boy, eyes wide and arms pinwheeling.)

Dumbledore, with Filch trailing after him, approached the three adults. "Minerva. Kakashi. Alastor. What a pleasant morning."

"Indeed," said Kakashi, facade unreadable.

"Let's have a little chat to sort out this small issue," addressed their Headmaster lightly.

Apparently, Mr. Filch thought 'little chat' spelt 'doom' for a certain Mediator for he started to rub his hands in delight. His joy was short lived, though, when Dumbledore dismissed him. "Thank you, Argus. I'll handle it from here."

If he was disappointed, it did not show on his face. "Of course Headmaster," muttered the caretaker in deference.

As Filch moved away, all the while shooting Kakashi sly triumphant looks, Dumledore amplified his voice to speak with the students.

"Attention. Attention."

Respectfully, the crowd of youth fell silent as the wizened wizard raised his hand.

"Please bear with me as I talk to your professors and Mediator." The Headmaster smiled pleasantly. "With your patience, we will resolve this matter soon."

* * *

The four adults moved away from the students and situated themselves at a hidden corner. As a precautionary measure, Dumbledore, with graceful twirls of his wand, set up wards to prevent eavesdroppers from listening into the private conversation.

McGonagall immediately rounded on the Mediator. "Really, Mr. Hatake. All the students show up on time and you don't?"

"That isn't the main issue," he stated evenly.

He watched as Dumbledore clasped his hands behind his back and observed, not looking the least surprised. Moody was also neutral, the unnatural eye tracking the students behind them.

As for McGonagall, the witch tried to comprehend the meaning his words were alluding to but came up short. "How is that not the issue? Is this another one of your roundabout lessons?"

"No." Kakashi uttered the crux of the problem. "It wasn't me."

She paused. "I beg your pardon."

"It wasn't me." Kakashi repeated plainly and honestly. "I didn't write the note. I didn't set up this meeting with the students today." He wanted to keep the students on their toes by not scheduling the meeting this week. Besides, he was busy with the mission last night – drawing the crude, dated map of the Land of Earth stronghold – which he still needed to send off to Konoha.

"But the last two Saturdays-" started McGonagall.

There was dry humour in his voice when Kakashi said, "I think we have a _copycat_ in our midst."

Dumbledore chuckled, understanding the reference for what it was. "Perhaps you might have an idea on who it might be?"

Under her breath, McGonagall sniffed, distrust evident in her posture.

Kakashi took a silver Sickle out of his pocket and rolled it along his knuckles. "I do. Don't you, Professor Moody?"

The small smirk stretched into a wide wolfish grin. "Maybe."

"You are certainly quite observant," stated the shinobi politely. "More so than the students."

"Is that a compliment or are you mocking me, eh, Mr. Hatake? Comparing me with the impressionable youth…" Moody barred his teeth as he grinned.

Ever sharp, McGonagall immediately put two to two together with their dancing words. Her eyebrows rose. "Oh you_ didn't_ Alastor," grumbled the senior witch, cross and incredulous.

But everyone knew the answer to that when Kakashi tossed the Sickle back towards Moody.

_Your move._

Moody confirmed with a leering remark, "Don't worry. I'll take the credit if you're afraid the students will mangle Mr. Hatake in rage."

McGonagall looked suitably disgusted.

* * *

When the four adults returned, they stood in a cluster at the front of the gathering. Dumbledore, perhaps strategically or perhaps more for a symmetrical image of power, placed himself between McGonagall and his hired shinobi. As for Moody, he stood two steps in front of them, hands raised in a curt gesture to gather the attention of the students.

Hands in pockets with his lavender scarf tugged by the wind, Kakashi stance was noncommittal as he listened.

"Students. Your Mediator, Mr. Hatake, did not set this up," proclaimed Moody brusquely.

A hum followed those words and the buzzing from the students amplified when Moody continued, "I was the one who did this."

Kakashi could hear the confusion elicited by Moody's words. Although he was, admittedly, annoyed by Moody's meddling, this was working out to be better (entertainment) than expected. Beside him, Dumbledore hummed.

"_Constant Vigilance_!" roared Moody, immediately silencing the students as they jumped. "Constant vigilance! Those who are unobservant will find themselves dead in a dire situation."

A student from the crowd questioned haughtily, "And how are we unobservant when we followed your instructions to a tee-"

"Exactly!" said Moody, his blue eye spinning furiously. "For the record, I used owls to send those notes since I didn't have your Mediator's smart little dogs at my beck and call. There was no _signature_ – in method or note. Just from these two points, that should have instilled suspicion. You should have realized that the message was a fake. _A forgery_."

"You have basically followed the orders of a third party under the assumption that it was Mr. Hatake," expounded their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. "What if an enemy lures you out with a false message claiming to be your ally?"

The young first and second years' expressions were pinched as they realized their folly while the more experienced older years, cowed, shifted under Moody's calculating scrutiny.

"You should be glad all you had to do was pointlessly wait. You should also be thankful to Professor McGonagall and Mr. Hatake for discovering your location so quickly this morning. I was going to make you wait until noon – or until you gave up waiting and went back inside in, incurring a points deduction..."

Moody hid a secret grin but his delight was plain for all to see in his natural eye.

Behind Moody, Dumbledore carried a whispered conversation with Kakashi. "I believe Alastor tipped Argus to alert Minerva and myself of this situation and explicitly told our caretaker not to alarm the other professors."

McGonagall clucked her tongue, interrupting, "Is this what this is? Tipping Argus to tell us so that we can handle this like his _pawns_?"

"Ah…" Kakashi added, thoughtful, "And Professor Moody led me here too…This was orchestrated by him very thoroughly."

Kakashi observed the back of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher with an experienced eye; there was no doubt that the Professor, in turn, was observing him for his reaction using his magical eye.

This wizard was certainly meticulous _and_ paranoid. The occurrence today was a testament of this potentially deadly combination. But even more troubling was the fact that this man was doing quite well with his _interpretations _of his observations and acting on them. Kakashi thought back to the silver Sickle and almost grimaced. Perhaps leaving that Sickle on Moody's desk was not the wisest decision for it was obvious now that Moody thought it a direct challenge and took it upon himself to meet him head on.

Moody was indeed very observational – _too _observational. He picked up on minor things – behavioural patterns that Kakashi has allowed to slip through – that civilians would normally not pick up or act on.

So this was a snippet of an Auror's abilities…He contemplated at the challenge. Perhaps it wouldn't be so boring at Hogwarts after all…

Dumbledore cleared his throat, catching the attention of all, "Now that we have this matter settled, I believe-"

"-Sorry for interrupting, Headmaster, but I would like to add a few words." Kakashi smiled benignly while Moody perked up in interest.

As for the students, he heard some of them stifle an all-suffering groan.

Kakashi ignored them and stepped forward, level to Moody's position. "Although you have been tricked, I noticed that everyone showed up today; therefore I believe we should reward you with points."

Now the students blinked in collective shock. The Mediator was willing to _give_ points and not be his trigger happy self and _take_ them? Even Minerva nodded approvingly this time, agreeing with his actions.

"And so, I will award five points to each house for finally completing the assignment I sent out for the last two weeks – one that you failed both times. 'Three times the charm', I think that's the muggle saying, isn't it?" Shrugging, he praised sardonically, "Congratulations."

"…_What_?"

"…Only five points? I could have easily earned five points from snitching and that woulda been less stupid-!"

"This is crazy!"

"We've been cheated-"

Kakashi could _feel_ McGonagall's look of exasperation drilling into his back. Picked up by his sharp ears, McGonagall muttered, "I hoped too soon."

"Now now, I am only practicing restraint with the points system, as Professor McGonagall recommended," said Kakashi over their outrage. McGonagall was grumbling again at his selectiveness. "And I think you can agree that this is better than having each house lose thirty-seven points for inadequate observational skills, hm."

Dumbledore coughed behind a fist, eyes twinkling behind the half-moon glasses. "Is there anything else, Mr. Hatake? Professors?"

"No."

"No."

"Yes." Staring at Kakashi pointedly and defiantly, McGonagall, too, stepped forward and addressed the students, "I believe we should also add ten more points to each house for their show of patience."

Certainly the students should be commended for catering to the whims of such an impossible man – along with his new 'sometimes' accomplice, Moody.

At McGonagall's challenge, Kakashi grinned, eye curving, and showed deference, "Of course, Professor. You would know best as an expert in positive reinforcement."

* * *

And so when the other Head of Houses saw that each house was up by fifteen points that morning, McGonagall advised them not to ask and to look a gift horse in the mouth.

She did, however, warn them about the strange sort-of alliance between their Mediator and one Alastor Moody. The other professors predictably went mum as they thought over the implications.

No one commented when Snape's mood became fouler.

* * *

Flapping her wings, Awaji tilted her head when the ANBU agent appeared in a swirl of smoke.

ANBU Sparrow bowed. "Hokage-sama."

Tsunade looked up from the map she was perusing and beckoned the ANBU to stand. "Report. Have you found anything else regarding the Land of Earth stronghold?"

"As previously reported, we've found the names of six individuals who had a mission or contact with this stronghold in the last fifteen years. Only three individuals are living today-"

"-Yes." The Hokage tapped at the three maps on her desk. "All three have sent in their maps. Hatake, Kakashi – fifteen years ago." She pointed at the makeshift map in the far left. "Yoshio, Arata – nine years ago." This was placed in the middle. She tapped on the next image to its right. "ANBU Hare – three years ago."

The ANBU agent nodded. "Shall I take these maps and analyze them?"

"Yes, bring these maps. As Squad Delta is currently observing the area, you can assist them in this mission." Tsunade waved her hand and the ANBU agent collected the three important pieces of the puzzle. "From my analysis, the Rock-nin has upgraded the area."

Sparrow nodded again in affirmation. "Yes, our Intel is now backtracking all the previous information they collected of the area. From the early indications, this may have actually been a hive of secret activity."

Musing aloud, Tsunade frowned delicately, "And even with these maps filled with human error…The land seems changed over the fifteen years; the stronghold has shifted closer and closer to the river that runs nearby."

"Which means they needed a larger water supply for whatever they were – and probably still are – doing in there," concluded Sparrow with a sharp intake of breath.

"_And coupled with the fact that they stole and brought a top secret Sealed Scroll from Sand to the stronghold…"_ Tsunade ordered curtly, "Report immediately if Squad Delta finds any other peculiarities in the area but _do not engage_. Find out what they want. We need to figure out their intentions with this scroll first before plunging forwards." She then added lightly, "Cooperate with the Sand-nin but I expect discretion. I do not want another diplomatic upheaval because of this event."

Once she dismissed Sparrow, she sat back in her chair, rubbing at her temples. "Damn Rock-nin…" It was not every day that the Rock-nin would be brave enough (or stupid enough) to enter the realm of the Kazekage and steal a scroll detailing a dated pact between Konohagakure and Sunagakure.

It was curious, in fact. What could be in this scroll, a scroll describing a political drama thirty years ago, that would be worth stealing and losing their lives for? It was also curious how Konoha did not have a similar scroll in their archives unless…

…There was a mole in their midst.

* * *

Life goes on. The week progressed uneventfully at Hogwarts. When the excitement and ire about Saturday died down, Kakashi found that he was still subjected to the same cold shoulder from the students (even though one could argue that it wasn't his fault this time…technically). One of the more interesting moments of the week, though, was when Moody approached him Thursday morning…

"Mr. Hatake."

Without looking up, he greeted, "Good morning Professor." He flipped a page in the book describing the old clock tower in London, completely engrossed.

Moody was unaffected by Kakashi's _normal_ off-putting behaviour. Instead, he pulled out a chair by Kakashi's side, sat down, and tucked into breakfast, in the process, taking a swig out of his hip flask. "No plans at all today?"

Paper crinkled beneath his fingertips. "No, not really."

Moody speared a piece of bacon with his pure silver fork. He sniffed at the morsel of food and checked the colouring of the silver for poison before consuming the piece. "Good." He swallowed and was direct with his next words. "You will attend my lesson this afternoon."

"I will?"

"Yes, you will."

Closing the book with a light snap, Kakashi regarded the ex-Auror steadily with his one eye. "I did hear the rumours about the Imperius Curse demonstrations…"

"Excellent." Chewing on a slice of toast, Moody repeated, "Excellent."

As Moody ate, Kakashi slouched into his chair. "Today, ten minutes before one o'clock?"

"Aye."

"Alright." He agreed and in afterthought, added, "As long as I'm not the guinea pig."

Raising his hip flask in a mock salute, Moody smirked, "Wouldn't dream of it. That's what the students are there for."

* * *

_And so he went. He saw. He conquered. _

* * *

Kakashi privately thought it could not possibly be legal in this country for Moody to fire the Imperius Curse at the students and manipulate them to do his bidding.

He could admit, though, that it was a rather harmless and entertaining scene.

"-very good Potter!" praised Moody as he finally found success in the strong willed Harry Potter. "They'll have trouble controlling you!"

"Did you see that? Potter fought it. He fought it! So the rest of you pay attention as we do this again – yes Potter, again-"

After insisting on the demonstration three more times, Moody moved onto the rest of the students, but none were as successful as the 'Boy Who Lived'.

Finally, though, class was nearing a close. Moody was visibly disappointed by the fourth years. "Perhaps one last demonstration will inspire a fighting spirit." Kakashi noted Potter seemed to deflate but that changed when Moody continued, "Mr. Hatake, our silent observer, care to try?"

"No, not really," he said frankly.

Moody's electric blue eye spun and rested on his person, as did his other eye as if in reassurance.

Sardonically, Kakashi thought, _"As if eye contact with a person named 'Mad-Eye Moody' would be reassuring"_

"Just a simple jump command, nothing more, nothing less."

With that, the tired but jittery students snickered, under the impression that the 'squib diplomat' was intimidated by the Imperius Curse. Any normal squib diplomat (or any normal witch or wizard) with a good logical head on their shoulders would in fact be intimated. Kakashi, who was not a normal squib diplomat, was just a tad unimpressed by the assumption about his person.

"Very well," he sighed, as if this situation was off-putting – which it was. "Though I thought I wouldn't be the guinea pig…" murmured Kakashi, posture blasé as he faced the Professor in a showdown.

"But I do know what I am doing, Mr. Hatake. Being a guinea pig implies being a part of an experiment without knowing if the wanted results will be achieved…" responded Moody, scars pulling in an uncomfortable looking contortion as he spoke. "Just a simple jump command…"

Good thing he was 'constantly vigilant'. Kakashi stood at attention, eye curving deceptively, and said, "Ready when you are."

Eyes widening dramatically, Moody raised his wand and spelled, "_Imperio_!"

Time seemed to slow. Kakashi watched the beam of light approach speedily and with a delayed, civilian reaction, he ducked at the last second and accomplished yet another sleight of hand.

The spell blasted the wall, scorching the area a sooty grey.

Rising upwards, Kakashi cheerfully flipped the _silver Sickle_ into the air. "How coincidental! I can potentially gain a small fortune if every time I visit your classroom I find a Sickle. Wouldn't you agree, Professor?"

The students all experienced a moment of déjà vu.

Moody's expression changed from shock to annoyance before settling to grudging acceptance. "There are hardly enough Sickles lying around the floor for your convenience, Mr. Hatake."

"No, I suppose not," agreed Kakashi mildly. "But that won't stop me from _trying_." The message was clear. "_That won't stop me from preventing your attempts at catching me off guard_."

* * *

Later that day when Moody attempted to find the first silver Sickle Hatake gave him – so as to join the same pocket he placed the second silver Sickle in (the same second Sickle uncovered and given to him by Hatake today) – he found the first Sickle missing.

It was then, with a sinking feeling, did he realize that Kakashi was a proficient pickpocket too as he used the _same silver Sickle_ to fool him twice.

Moody drank out of his hip flask in a long swig and wondered about the strange nuisance.

* * *

Friday morning was heralded by frost and bright sunshine. Kakashi sat on the damp ground under the shade of a large deciduous tree, its leaves a brilliant gold in the young October light. By his side was his prepared pack leaning against the tree and at his other side was his giant mastiff Bull, peacefully sleeping away.

They were not alone, though. A ways away, Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, was harmlessly perched on top of a rock. Tail twitching, she did not move from her place as if there was a fine line drawn on the ground preventing the irate feline from approaching Kakashi. All she did was stare at him unblinkingly so Kakashi obliged and stared back.

Kakashi mused it might be Bull striking the skittish feline with fear. If the cat was having flashbacks – if a cat _can_ indeed have flashbacks – then he was sorry to be an indirect cause for her distress. Maybe he shouldn't have had Bull guard the closet Mrs. Norris was trapped in…

A soft voice called out, "Hello?"

Blinking, Kakashi finally turned his attentions away from the cat (a cat that he swore seemed to flounce away when he lost their unofficial staring contest) to the stranger standing behind him. "Hello."

The atmosphere gained a tinge of unease.

"I was informed by the Headmaster that I would find you here…"

Seemingly disinterested, Kakashi stood up and dusted himself off. Bull, as if feeling the tension, snorted but continued to sleep, rolling onto his back with his paws twitching in the air. He gave his summon a fond smile before turning to face the new guest, hands open. "And here I am."

He quickly catalogued the stranger. Male in his thirties – possibly forties. Brown hair with strands of grey. Aged. Gaunt, sickly appearance. Thin bare, shabby clothes. Dumbledore also mentioned that he was kind and was the former Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher; the Headmaster would not, however, explain why he was 'former' and Kakashi did not press for more.

"Yes…" The man nodded awkwardly. "Is that your dog?"

"You can say that. He won't be following though." Kakashi eyed his guide before dipping his head in greeting. "Kakashi Hatake."

His guide seemed to remember himself when he smiled faintly in return, "It's nice to meet you. My name is Remus Lupin."

* * *

Flitwick, from his elevated seat at the Professors' table, watched the way the students moved around in the Great Hall. It appeared everyone was holding their breaths for _something_ to happen.

He couldn't blame them though. It was Saturday today and it was to the surprise of many that their Mediator didn't _do_ anything. The Charms Professor knew that his colleagues were also a bit touchy, evident by the way their eyes tracked all the on-goings in front of them.

"Professor Moody…" started Professor Vector. Flitwick had his ears open towards the conversation; the other Head of Houses were not exempt from this either as curiosity got the better of them.

Grunting, Moody easily divined what she wanted from him for he turned to face the Arithmancy Professor and said, "I don't know."

Professor Burbage flittered, "But you might have an idea…?"

The ex-Auror snorted, "Do you think I keep tabs on him at all times?"

There was an unspoken '_yes_' from all listeners.

Unconcerned by their opinions, Moody tasted the waffles. "Well I haven't seen him today. And personally, I like the fact that he's keeping you all on your toes."

McGonagall's frown deepened. Flitwick could hear Madam Hooch whisper to her, "Of course he would like something like that…_Constant Vigilance_ is practically his motto!"

Their Headmaster hummed thoughtfully, catching the attention of his staff. "There's no need to be concerned over Mr. Hatake's wellbeing. I believe he's been out of the castle since yesterday morning."

With those words, the entirety of the table seemed to deflate and heave a sigh of relief. They didn't have to walk on eggshells today because they were finally Hatake-free. Even _Snape _seemed less gloomy than normal.

Flitwick, who was a bit put out by his peers' behaviour, asked Dumbledore, "Then where might he be?"

"Ah…" The Headmaster brushed his long white beard and said mysteriously, "He went sightseeing in London."

"Sightseeing…?" repeated the Charms Professor.

"Indeed." Smiling, Dumbledore added, a twinkle in his eye, "With Remus Lupin."

Flitwick nodded slowly, a bit shocked that the man selected Lupin for the job. "I see."

Having a soft spot for Lupin, Madam Pomfrey grouched, "…I hope Mr. Hatake goes easy on the poor man."

* * *

What a strange person.

Before he sought out Kakashi Hatake, he was warned about his prickly behaviour by Dumbledore (not in those words, evidently, more of a 'he can be difficult sometimes'). Interestingly enough, there had been nothing but civility thus far. He casted the younger man walking beside him a sidelong look as the man in question stared at the gloomy sky. Sidestepping a light pole without looking, Kakashi, as if feeling the scrutiny, asked, "Yes, Mr. Lupin?"

Remus put on a mild expression. "We're almost at the famous landmark."

Nodding absently, Kakashi watched as several muggle automobiles passed them, showing great fascination at the mechanical monsters. Without trying to sound rude, Remus, seeing the curiosity, asked, "I know you're not magical but you've never seen a car before?"

"In my village, such things don't exist." Scratching at his cheek hidden beneath the pollutant grey scarf, he added, "And the last time I was at London, we didn't see these 'cars'."

"It must be a culture shock, then," commented the wizard.

"You can say that." Pausing, Kakashi looked at the Thames River as he leaned over the impressive Westminster Bridge. "Everything feels…bigger in the 'city'."

Remus tugged at his threadbare clothes. "You say you're from a village?"

"Yes." Kakashi didn't offer any more information and instead continued walking.

Left floundering, Remus attempted further conversation. "Is it far from London?"

"Yes."

"…You seem like you're of Asian descent."

"I am."

"Then are you from Asia?"

"You can say that."

"Ah…Then the difference between your village and London must be great."

"I already mentioned that, didn't I?"

"_Yes, but not in those words,"_ thought Remus, exasperated…And perhaps this was what Dumbledore referred to as 'Kakashi being difficult'. Sighing, Remus said thinly, "Well then, just to the end of the bridge and we'll be at the Palace of Westminster."

"Ah."

"Over there is the famous clock tower, often referred to as Big Ben," pointed out Remus unnecessarily.

Kakashi's lone eye seemed to light up. "I remember reading about this. The books mentioned that the clock tower housing the bells is actually the main radio tower for the British Wizarding World."

"That's right. It's still in use today as the hub for the British Magical Radio Association." Stopping near the gates of the Palace, Remus offered, "We can visit the inside of the radio tower, if you'd like."

* * *

Elsewhere hidden in the London crowd, a figure unobtrusively watched the two men loitering in front of the Palace.

"My oh my…" Lips curved upwards. "And so I finally found you, Kakashi Hatake."

* * *

**To Be Continued**

**A/N:** It's actually getting serious :O And I promise we'll _finally_ reach the Tri-Wizard Tournament in the next two chapters. Just bear with me. A real shinobifight scene? Maybe! :)

~Phoenyxx


	13. 12: The Radio Tower

**Take Twelve:** The Radio Tower (Battle Sonata)

* * *

"Mr. Lupin," started Kakashi in a drawl.

"I do insist on Remus."

"_Mister_ Lupin."

(It was the little things that mattered. There were, after all, firm ways to assert authority in a situation out of his control.)

Poking at the knobs of the panel located by the door, Kakashi continued, "We walked through the front doors, passed the guards in broad daylight, went down a corridor and ended up in a _closet_." Of all places. A closet. Kakashi cleared his throat. "It's a very lovely and dark closet but we've been standing here for near ten minutes now. A change of scenery would be nice."

If the shinobi could see his expression, he'd likely spot the bashful embarrassment. Remus' voice practically oozed of this when he replied, "I – yes, sorry. _Lumos_." Wand in hand, he smiled sheepishly, "We have waited for a bit, haven't we? The radio staff _should_ be shortly."

"So." Kakashi leaned against the wall. "This magical closet is broken?"

Remus muttered lowly, "Well it's supposed to take us up to the radio broadcast headquarters."

"Hm…" He jabbed at the panel again. "The least they could do is install a light…" He trailed off when a button on the panel glowed a fairy pink.

A tinny voice emitted from a speaker somewhere behind their heads. "We apologize for the long wait of – ELEVEN MINUTES AND FIFTY-TWO SECONDS. You will be buzzed in shortly. Please wear the numbered guest badges around your necks in a visible fashion. Thank you and have a nice visit."

Remus released a short breath and selected two badges off a pile that was hanging from a clothes hanger above their heads. Passing one to Kakashi blindly, he mumbled another embarrassed 'sorry' when his hand met his arm awkwardly.

"Here you are, Mr. Hatake." Remus exhaled in relief when another button on the panel fluoresced a forest green. "Let's go then."

Slipping the door open, the 'guide' of the duo stepped through the entrance (née closet) while the 'tourist' followed suit in a slower manner, badge swinging around his neck when he turned his head to take in the sights.

It seemed that the closet really _was _a secret entrance to the magical radio tower as the corridor that it used to connect to had changed into a grand, circular atrium composed of sheer glass walls. It was certainly bigger on the inside than outside. Thin silver-coloured metal formed the frames of the goliath structure, twisting and turning down the glass like ivy columns. At the centre, a giant silvery staircase spiralled up into the awnings and to the front-left, a half-moon reception desk sat facing the entrance door. Two women of near identical features smiled at them and greeted concurrently, "Welcome to Great Britain's Radio Tower as run by the British Magical Radio Association. How can we help you today?"

Kakashi noted their names written on the placards. Daisy and Violet.

Remus started, "Ah – yes, we would like to take a tour as guests-"

"Thank you for wearing the guest badges in a visible fashion," they echoed, twin smiles equally wide and disturbing.

_Interesting. _The shinobi shifted his eye from one identical witch to the other, itching to discern if this was a wizard equivalent of the shadow clone technique or if the ladies were just very creepy doppelgangers.

"Ah – right." Remus cleared his throat, "Well then, like I was saying-"

"Yes?" repeated the two witches in chorus.

_"-Telepaths maybe? They're very smoothly synchronized."_

His 'babysitter' made indistinct restless motions with his hands. "We require a tour guide."

"Of course," agreed the witches amiably, both heads tilted in the same direction as they smiled. "Do you have an appointment?"

_"Maybe they share a brain…Or perhaps a Bloodline Limit..."_

Remus answered, "Ah, No…"

The twins explained simultaneously, expressions similarly apologetic down to the last tic, "The Radio Tower is not normally opened for public viewing."

"But we have a letter of good faith from Professor Dumbledore-" fumbled Remus.

"Very good!" The ladies smiled in approval.

_"Hm. Bloodline Limit like the Sharingan that allows them to predict each other's words? No, too convoluted. Must be clones."_ Unable to resist, Kakashi released a tendril of chakra, allowing the energy to split and slowly inch towards the receptionists. If they were similar to shadow clones, their chakra would have a void-like _feel_ to it-

"-_Stop it_," practically growled Lupin in sudden ire to what appears to be empty air.

But the shinobi recognized the instinctual warning as his senses zeroed in on the prickling skin along Lupin's visible nape. _"Interesting. Another 'magical being', as Professor Dumbledore would put it, sensitive to chakra."_

Violet and Daisy leaned slightly closer against the half-moon desk to peer at Lupin inquisitively. "Stop what sir?"

"I don't know." Lupin rounded on Kakashi as he rubbed the back of his neck, irritated. "This is probably – but I can't explain-" Releasing a deep breath, the wizard stalled, "There's something – we should go."

He stilled everything _(-chakra hanging like a prized fish lure-)_ and responded as plainly as possible. "What about our tour?"

Quickly taking in his ally, there were the faint signs of aggression and fear lingering behind Lupin's countenance, just like the ghosts in Hogwarts then when faced with 'distilled' chakra.

"Maybe…later," started Lupin as he raked an agitated hand through his hair and addressed the twins, "…Do you have a poltergeist in this radio tower?"

The twin witches said surely, "No sir. We do not-"

Lupin interrupted them. "-We should go anyway."

"I don't think that's necessary." Kakashi disbursed the chakra thread and Lupin's expression cleared, though the caution was not completely erased. "I want the tour, Mr. Lupin."

"…"

He might not be an actual diplomat but let it never be said that he wasn't diplomatic. He was quite matter-of-fact as he started the opening line of the negotiations. "I was stuck in a closet for eleven minutes and fifty-two seconds."

That grabbed his attention but resistance lingered.

Delivering the one-two, Kakashi continued in a drawl, "This visit has to be worth at least _half _of those eleven minutes and fifty-two seconds."

"…"

"Oh my. Again, we do apologize for the long wait," fretted the twin receptionists.

Remus remained stonily silent as he eyed his surroundings in restrained paranoia before the wizard rubbed the back of his neck one last time, nodding guardedly. "…Right. You're right." Lupin seemed to steel his resolve. "Sorry about my behaviour, Mr. Hatake. I'm not sure what came over me."

The shinobi saw through the deceit, even though he had no idea what Lupin could be lying about, but did not comment outright. "That's fine, Mr. Lupin." A lie for a lie.

"If everything is good?" Without waiting for their response, Violet stood up with Daisy and they bowed. "We will call for Esquire Schrödinger."

A knob on the desk glowed a pixie pink at their words and a few moments later, a loud resounding crack filled the space four steps left of the reception desk.

The wizard that apparated into the lobby was quite the portly man, donning a small petticoat that seemed one size too small. He was clean shaven but had the most massive walrus-like eyebrows that drew immediate attention. With blotchy cheeks, a stubby nose and uneven eyes, the man would certainly not win any 'most dashing wizard of the year' awards in the near future.

Yes, that award was real. He stumbled over its existence in a _Witch Weekly_ magazine given by Professor Burbage who, he believed, thought him a charity case.

"Harrump!" The Esquire asked the twins impatiently, "What is it?"

"Esquire Schrödinger. We have guests requesting for a tour," replied Daisy and Violet brightly.

Turning towards them, the Esquire crossed his arms and puffed out his chest in a self-important manner. Kakashi noted any other features he might have missed on his initial assessment and added _'potentially colour blind'_ to the list when he saw that the older gentleman wore a red sock on one foot and a green sock on the other.

…Or of course, it could just be another strike of eccentric wizard fashion.

His eyebrows, peppered black and white, moved up and down as his eyes did the muggle elevator; Schrödinger asked, "Are you Asian?"

"Yes." Kakashi deadpanned. "Is there a problem?"

"Problem?!" he sputtered. That answer seemed to fire him up. "What are you high and mighty _lot_-"

"-Vacation."

"_Vacation?!_"

"Well more like sightseeing-"

"Sight. _Seeing?_"

Sensing Schrödinger as one of _those_ people, ones with a myopic, self-important complex, he added, "I'm employed at Hogwarts as their Me-"

Schrödinger looked just about ready to go into a cardiac arrest. "What does such an esteemed school have to do with _you, _you little _lout_?"

"Esquire," Remus finally intervened, cringing, and passed a note to the fuming man. "Here's Professor Dumbledore's vote of confidence."

The Esquire seemed to openly judge Lupin and his ratty, bedraggled look before taking the proffered piece of parchment. Opening the note with a loud snap of paper whiplashing air, he mumbled disbelieving after several seconds, "Says here he's a diplomat."

"You-" Remus looked at Kakashi searchingly, concerned that that tidbit of information didn't make past the first ice breaker. He silently mouthed at him with a downturned sour expression, _"You're a diplomat and you didn't tell me?"_

Kakashi's eyebrow rose in question at that and shrugged. It was definitely dismissive and if the lower half of his face wasn't covered, Remus would have seen him mutter, _"Blame your boss. I thought you were told."_

The Esquire grumbled, breaking Remus' attention, "Diplomatic business duties…Harrump! _Duties?_ And what's this _Mediator _business? What awfully pretty words that don't mean a horse's droppings to the Asian Ministry." Eyebrows danced suspiciously as the big but short man leered at them both. "_Fine._ I'll take the good Professor's word. _But._ Don't touch anything!"

"Okay."

The Esquire returned the crinkled note to Remus and turned away. "Follow me."

(Remus asked again in a low voice, "You're a diplomat?"

"Yes."

"…Why didn't you-?"

"You didn't ask."

And that was the end of that uneventful conversation.)

Kakashi and Remus trailed after the Esquire, skirting around the reception desk, past the creepy twins, and towards the spiralling staircase, the centrepiece of the lobby. From their perspective on the ground, the sparkling stairway was built to go up into a solid ceiling. A dead-end.

Schrödinger pointed with a meaty finger. "See these stairs here? Mix of real silver and gold. Gilded. Wrought back in the 1700s. Don't _touch _and leave your grubby _fingerprints_ on it."

Remus, even though knowing the last message wasn't directed at him, nodded, an uncertainty hanging over him, "We won't."

Schrödinger's eyebrows twitched violently when Kakashi responded with a simple, "Okay."

"Up we go then." The man tottered onto the third step and beckoned them to follow. Once all three stepped on, the stairs began to magically turn upwards and as they neared the ceiling, they phased into the next floor, bypassing the illusion.

Kakashi took a good look around as they stepped onto the floor. It was a bland grey maze of cubicles as far as the room permitted, stretching from one glass wall to the other with no sign of empty space. There was also the strangest sensation, as if there was thick cotton fluff muffling his ears and the air itself. It was eerie; an office full of desks but there was no noise, no sign of life behind the walls.

The Esquire spoke, voice peculiarly subdued from its previous boisterousness, "This is the office. People work here." Eyebrows wriggled angrily as he warned menacingly at Kakashi, "Don't touch anything!"

He deliberately leaned against a cubicle wall and said, "I won't."

"I'm watching you _sir_." Nose firmly pointed up, Schrödinger moved to the centre of the hallway all the while muttering, "Harrump! Asian Ministry thinking they're _hotshots_…"

Remus quickly apologized quietly for his ears only, "Don't mind Esquire Schrödinger. He is…old fashioned."

_"Old fashioned? What does _that_ mean?"_ Kakashi frowned and couldn't think of an instance where his research went deeper into the historical relationship of the Asian-British wizards. Another oversight he needed to rectify soon.

"Harrump! Are you two listening?" Growling, Schrödinger waved a hand at the carpeted hallway. "You see how the hallway is a different colour from the carpet in the cubicles? It's like that for a _reason_."

Standing straighter in attention, Remus nodded dutifully. "I think I heard of this before."

"You better have, boy." The Esquire finally chuckled, though arrogantly. "This piece of magic contributes to your culture. The Pathway of Desires. You think it and it'll take you there." Schrödinger grinned a tad darkly at Kakashi. "Like this, Mr. _Diplomat_."

Immediately, the floor beneath their feet jolted at an incredibly fast speed. Both Remus and Kakashi stumbled at the initial pull before righting themselves. Their surroundings blurred into a mess of grey as they turned the sharp corners of the cubicle city and just as quick as it began they were transported to the Esquire's desired destination. Again, they stumbled at the abrupt stop, catching themselves at the change in inertia.

The Esquire twitched his eyebrows as he pointed inside the cubicle. "This is Dave Copper, our _famous_ Quidditch broadcaster."

"Shucks." Dave, lazily sprawled in a chair, grimaced. "Thanks sir."

The rotund Esquire jabbed a thumb in their direction. "Headmaster Dumbledore's guests."

"Oh." He waved, relatively friendly, and greeted, "Davy's fine, guys."

Kakashi catalogued the man tipped back in his seat. 'Davy' was a Caucasian male in his late thirties with long brown dreadlocks and rockstar-level piercings in his right ear. He also seemed severely lacking in organizational skills because his office space was _messy_. It looked _worse _than the aftermath of 'whirlwind Guruko', an incident where his restless nindog was trapped in his small confined apartment space and Kakashi learned that teething puppies should not be left alone with his _Icha Icha Paradise_.

(He still found bits and pieces of confetti-like paper depicting his favourite porn under his bed, nesting with the dust bunnies.)

"Welcome. Please come into my quaint 'lil booth here."

There were colourfully loud posters of different sporting teams cluttered on the surface of the cubicle walls, some overlapping others in a mishmash war of clashing designs. Also, his desk was lost in a mire of paper and collectible moving figurines of sporting legends. Hanging right above Davy's head, there was a microphone that towered above the allotted space, decorated with stickers of Quidditch equipment and a Firebolt broomstick 'ornament'. Even the very air space of the room was cluttered with multiple sheaves of newsprint, fluttering in midair as they were suspended by magic.

Davy noticed his guests' attention on those papers and said casually, "They're the sports reports from the past week. See here – the _Daily Prophet_. _Baboon's Brochure_. _Sports in Movement_. _Seeker Weekly_. Much easier to sort like this if I can read 'em as I go. You get it?"

Remus nodded sharply, "You must read a lot of articles in a day."

"It's good work. Everyone loves Quidditch." Davy shrugged, "I read stuff. Talk about Quidditch. Debate about it. It's good."

"I see," hemmed Remus.

"Yup…" Davy took a swig of water and tried to ask, "So I don't think I caught your names?"

Lupin smiled, pinched, "Remus Lupin. This is…ah…Kakashi Hatake."

"Cool."

The conversation petered out again when Kakashi refused to participate and Schrödinger was too busy glaring at him to join. Remus shuffled his feet and pointed at a news article drifting by Davy's right ear. "What's this one about then?"

Snatching the thin paper, Davy started with a laugh, "Oh this one's a hoot. You know the mascot for the Swedish Quidditch team is an osprey? Take a look at this picture."

Davy showed them the newsprint with the photo that was taken by the article writer. The picture depicted a person dressed like a giant hunter bird trapped up in a tree. Kakashi watched as the mascot wrapped his arms around the trunk of the tree, distressed and shaking, as down below, a giant wolf frothing at the mouth tried to claw up the tree to attack him.

"The Osprey. That's the mascot. See this. Embarrassing situation where he was stuck in an ash tree. Ironic, since he's representing a bird, the poor bloke. Someone had to levitate him down after setting a tiny little _squirrel_ to scare off the wolf."

After a pause, the shinobi responded, "Hm." Kakashi smiled, eye curving as he found humour in the scene. Even across different nations, human ospreys, it seemed, should expect to be stuck in a tree at least once in their lifetimes.

* * *

_Flashback_

Wraiths bathed in the soft light of the stars, they stood weary in their black cloaks. Their faces were shrouded by the white lacquered mask, a tool that when used effectively could act as an unfeeling wall, a boundary that separated their emotions and identities from the outside world.

Exhaling softly, Osprey fidgeted with his disguise, showing discomfort despite his best judgement not to ("Can't show weakness in front of the Captain!"). Unfortunately for the operative, Hound quickly tapped him on the back of his head and reprimanded, "Stop that."

"Sorry sir."

After several long, agonizing seconds, Osprey unthinkingly scratched again at the edge of where his mask was digging into his skin.

"Stop." Hound intoned, followed by another sharp knock against his skull.

Osprey apologized meekly, "Sorry."

"You must be suicidal. Hah! Defying the Captain twice like that," sniggered Rabbit.

"…Uh." Osprey bit his tongue, refusing to respond to the taunt. Again, the skin where the mask met itched and _throbbed_ and felt _inflamed_…

"Stop."

"But I didn't scratch-"

"You were thinking it," Hound drawled, his Sharingan eye flashing behind the peephole. If Osprey knew his Captain better, he would have known that Hound was only teasing him.

As it was, Osprey, the newbie recruit, didn't get it and instead flushed a terrible red that was visible by the tips of his ears. He muttered, "Of course, Captain. I apologize again."

Snickers echoed across the training field.

"Quiet," whispered Cat and the other rookies fell silent.

Hound stalked and circled the 'fresh meat', 'hmm'-ing and 'ahh'-ing until the newbies seemed to all hold their collective breaths in tension.

Cat, who previously participated in several other 'hazing' scenarios, had seen this enough times to be bored. All Cat thought of this was that Hound assigned the seniors with the short end of the stick time and time again.

Gathering the rookies at three in the morning.

Putting itching powder on their masks.

Replacing their kunai with rubber lookalikes.

Taunting them in the dark.

Cat sighed. The commands came from the 'golden mouth' of their Captain but who did all the work? The 'esteemed' senior operatives…

"Hey, cheer up," cajoled Rabbit, leaning into Cat's personal space. "You get the _fun_ part."

The newbies tensed even more, if that was possible, when they heard the word 'fun' because they knew it would be the _furthest_ definition of fun. Crazy seniors.

Irritated, Cat nearly growled, "Then why not you do it then?"

"Can't. Prior commitments."

Cat would have punched Rabbit's lying lecherous face in if the agent was not wearing a mask.

It was as if he had a sixth sense when his operatives were thinking of rebelling. "No switching roles." Hound stopped in front of the pair and nodded at Rabbit.

"Okay, okay, geez Captain." Rabbit started. "Whelp. Blindfolds, rookies. Put 'em on now. Under the mask. No cheating. Captain will rip out your beating heart and squeeze it in front of your eyes if you do."

In less than five seconds flat, the fifteen ANBU candidates donned the blindfolds.

"This is an exercise. A race." Hound recited the scenario, bored, "Run and navigate with only the chakra that flows through the Forest of Death. The finish line? Well, there's no fun to be had if I just tell you where it is."

Cat warned, "The last one there, however, will be suitably punished."

"Understood?" asked Hound, flanked by Cat and Rabbit.

"Yes Captain!"

The grass blew around the ANBU dramatically. In the next heartbeat, the Captain waved his hand in the air, once, silent.

Two of the candidates, one of them Osprey, moved and disappeared. The rest of the newbies stood there like sticks in the mud.

Hound shot his senior underlings a look and sighed despairingly, "This will be a tough group to babysit, neh, Rabbit?"

Rabbit sniggered. Cat pointed out calmly, "To be fair, they _are_ blindfolded."

"Right. Since when do we play fair anyway?" asked Rabbit mockingly.

The trainees shifted on their feet. Seven more seemed to _realize_ that the Captain already gave a general 'go' signal before hurriedly disappearing into the forest to tail the two others ahead of them.

When the other remaining candidates were _still_ standing in the training field, unmoving, Hound remarked, "Anyway, rookies, see you at the finish line, maybe.'

And _finally_, the rest of the newbies moved.

"A few of them aren't very intuitive," commented Cat after the last trainee left the field.

Hound shrugged. "Well then…More fun for you, neh, ANBU Cat. Go and confuse the rookies. If they run face-first into trees, or better – can't even get down from them – that'd be an added bonus. Trap Bear and Osprey first, they showed potential."

"Demonstrating some tough love, Captain?" ribbed Rabbit.

Their Captain grunted and 'accidentally' elbowed Rabbit.

"Hey!"

Cat ignored Rabbit's death wish. "Yes yes senpai," muttered Cat as the agent sauntered towards the Forest of Death at a more leisurely pace. "Doing all the dirty work again…"

Hound called out, sing-song. "Don't be cute, kohai! I can still hear you."

Shoulders tensing, they knew ANBU Cat was sputtering now. Rabbit laughed, "Time to hit the bars, Captain, now that the kids are out to play."

"Sure." Hound disappeared in a wisp of smoke. "As long as I'm not paying."

"Come on now, don't be such a cheap bastard," retorted Rabbit as the operative followed him, leaving ANBU Cat spitting curses at them.

_End Flashback_

* * *

It started when a high pitched whining pierced through the sound-muffling spell like a claxon. The hush that normally pervaded the office was lifted and suddenly, Kakashi heard the exclamations of hundreds as heads popped up and over cubicles to ask their neighbors the question:

"What's going on?"

"Harrump!" Esquire Schrödinger took out a silver pocket watch and squinted at the words imprinted along the dial.

Davy tried to yell over the pitched noise, "That's the security alarm."

Kakashi didn't comment when Remus took a few steps closer; he figured that Dumbledore assigned him as a guard as well. "It's very shrill," commented Remus as he clutched at his ears.

Schrödinger's giant eyebrows furrowed when he finally deciphered the message on the clock face. "Evacuation, Davy. Call Evacuation."

The normally laidback man jumped up as if physically shocked. "Evacuation? Okay... Never done that before. But okay. I'll do that. Desk and _Sonorus_, right?"

"Yes." Providing no further instruction, the Esquire seemed troubled as he took his wand out from a pocket in his petticoat and gave it a wave. The loud alarm was silenced.

Absentmindedly rubbing his left ear, Kakashi watched warily as Davy clambered onto his desk, stepping and slipping on his papers. He asked Schrödinger offhandedly, "Why not do it yourself?"

Schrödinger looked like he swallowed a lemon when he answered curtly, "Davy's taller."

_"Ah. Right. The partitions to the cubicles. Schrödinger's too short to reach past them even when standing on a desk."_

With a soft Sonorus, Davy's voice amplified and easily reached all the workers. "Hey everyone. Attention. This is not a drill folks. Got Esquire Schrödinger's blessing to pass on this message. Please evac. the building. Apparate or use the stairs. Okay? Thanks guys." He added in afterthought, "Hey. And don't panic. It's not like it's an emergency, I think. Um." He turned to look at Schrödinger, voice still bellowing. "It's not an emergency, right?"

Red faced, Schrödinger growled, "Just get down from there."

"Err. Right." Davy grinned sheepishly and called out to the rest of the office, "I think it _is_ an emergency. Evacuate people. See you outside!"

After Davy's little speech, Kakashi winced when an explosion of loud _pops_ and _cracks_ erupted in the office space as people scrambled to vacate the premises. Schrödinger was among the first ones to disapparate as soon as Davy was finished, evidently disregarding his guests.

"Ready?" asked Remus, unfazed, as he proffered an arm out to him.

He frowned, "Side-along apparition?"

"Beggars can't be choosers if you don't have a license. Good thing I got mine renewed. Time to vamoose, friends!" Davy stood up on his feet and did a turn; however, there was no signature _crack_ after that disapparating attempt.

"Uh." Davy frowned, panicked. "Why didn't that work?"

The people still left in the office shared Davy's alarmed sentiments; his neighbor, a petite female donned in business attire, appeared at the doorway of the cubicle and whimpered rather pathetically, "Davy! What's going on? I can't seem to disapparate and the Pathway of Desires isn't working!"

Remus grabbed both Kakashi and Davy by their arms and exited the cubicle. "It's likely anti-disapparating wards. Is this normal emergency protocol?"

"I don't know…" Davy shook his head and spoke to his co-worker, "Bethie? Calm down Bethie and tell me you're responsible and read the employee manual."

'Bethie' sniffled wetly, "Ye-yes, I've read it. It said-"

_-STUPEFY_.

Time slowed.

Shifting his eye from Bethie's half-conscious expression, Kakashi spotted a wraith-like figure-

_(-wraiths bathed in the soft light-)_

-six cubicles away. They were faceless-

_(-shrouded by the white lacquered mask-)_

-white mask glinting in the artificial light of the office, and cloaked in an open black robe with a hood pulled low.

_(-weary in their black cloaks-)_

Underneath their robes, he could see an armor-like chest plate and utilitarian pants.

_(-unfeeling wall… emotions… identities-)_

The enemy was pointing a wand in their direction, looking ready to fire another spell at them-

-Remus snatched Kakashi and Davy by their limbs, forcing them to duck into Davy's cubicle as a potentially lethal spell whizzed by. Bethie collapsed face-first into the carpet, knocked out cold.

Three more screams rented the air from somewhere deeper in the office. More enemies.

_(ANBU)_

"Bethie!" Shaking, Davy gasped, "_Merlin_. What is going on?"

Adrenaline thrumming under his skin, Kakashi murmured, "Definitely knows magic. Doesn't look like a Death Eater. Similar but not the same."

Remus _looked_ at him before saying quietly, "I won't ask when you saw a Death Eater but we'll treat them as such until we know who they are." He then turned to Davy, disregarding his distraught, and demanded in a hushed whisper, "Were you capable in your Defense Against the Dark Arts classes?"

"Uh – I don't think I _failed_-"

"Are you good with a shielding charm?"

"I think so-"

Remus interrupted him sharply, "-Good enough. Stay with Mr. Hatake."

"Wh-What?! What about you? We have to get out of here."

"We can't run out there if we don't know how many enemy wizards are in this building," snapped the ex-Professor grimly. "I'll clear the way; you watch my back."

_"Just like guard duty…" _Kakashi nodded before clapping a serious hand onto Davy's shoulder. "You better tie back your dreadlocks. It's about to get busy."

"Right." The Quidditch broadcaster took out his wand again, hand shaking slightly, and asked Kakashi in an undertone, "Wait. And what about you?"

"I – ah – don't have a wand." Kakashi then procured several heavy ink wells from Davy's desk, weighing them in his hand. His eye crinkled when he smiled. "I'll make do, though."

"Which leaves us as the magical protection detail, Davy." Readying his wand, Remus inched towards the wall of the cubicle silently.

Worrying, Davy muttered, "I'm a Quidditch broadcaster, not a player. My reflexes aren't that great."

Kakashi, without any malice to their resident cubicle club member, hoped there were some inexperienced 'Davy's in their enemy's ranks. Remus looked capable enough-

"_Expelliarmus! Stupefy! _Stay back. One is coming our way."

-but not if they were overwhelmed by numbers.

* * *

**TBC**

**A/N:** Hey there everyone. Did you miss me? :) I know I missed updating this story. Anyway, still more to come.

~Phoenyxx


	14. 13: Oracle

**Take Thirteen:** Oracle ("Your life will be _killer_!")

* * *

Trouble.

What tough luck for those wizards.

The first conclusion he came to early on in this scuffle was that witnesses weren't much of a problem during the dead of night. If he wanted to spit a water-based jutsu at his enemy's face after luring them into a false sense of security by playing dead, there was no one around to judge him.

Here? The jumpy wizards would likely panic and try to resuscitate him.

The second conclusion was that office supplies made really great impromptu weapons. He just might consider adding a staple gun – next to those stomach-curdling blood replenishing potions – to his deadly arsenal…

_THWACK!_

Impassive was the best way to put it when he watched the enemy drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes, rendered unconscious. A flying paperweight to the back of the head _could_ do that to a person. He hoped the owner of said paperweight wouldn't miss it but to be perfectly truthful, it had a rather ugly design anyway, especially now that a large dent deformed its side.

Noticing that they were one enemy short, Remus praised belatedly, surprise curbing the words, "…Good aim, Mr. Hatake."

The ex-Professor quickly shot a spell over the desk they were both ducked under but missed by inches if the sound of an exploding flower vase was anything to go by. Immobile, Davy was uncomfortably scrunched away under another bureau across from them, trying to remain inconspicuous. His rapidly darting eyes, from Kakashi to Remus to their surroundings, seemed to speak volumes about his nerves.

During the fray, someone had shrunk the dividers to the cubicle maze. With no more walls acting as screens, they were stuck ducking under desks and hiding behind cabinets. The good that this brought about though was that they had clear visual of the ten intruders – four of which were down for the count already.

"Thanks." Kakashi opened the bottommost drawer of the desk they were shielded behind and gathered the marble ink wells. Groping blindly along the surface of the desk, he felt for the – _there!_ – three-pronged candle holder he eyed earlier and hefted it with his right hand. "What do you say about wreaking havoc, neh, Mr. Lupin?"

Lupin paused, eyeing his choice of weaponry. "Are you sure?"

"Well." Experimenting the weight of the candelabra, Kakashi jabbed the air slowly in mock attack and shrugged, "Sure."

A half-burnt candle that was attached to his candelabra fell and rolled away pathetically. In retrospect, that probably mirrored Lupin's confidence in him right now.

"Because there are three of them approaching… " Remus glanced at Davy – the poor sports personality was shivering away in his fetal position with his wand held loosely by limp fingers – before turning to him, "Can you take one?"

Kakashi thought his judgment sound. There were a few stray radio tower office workers still stuck here, some distracting the enemies while others were incapacitated by a well-placed stunner. And unfortunately, Davy was like a bum leg in this fight, too overcome by fear to help effectively. Overall, he concluded that they were not fit for battle. Lupin however, he had honed reflexes, paces ahead of most other wizards here and maybe even some of the Hogwarts faculty members. Now that the man wasn't teaching at Hogwarts, what did he do for a living anyway? Why did Dumbledore choose him as a guide? This was definitely something to consider after the battle.

But back to the question at hand: could he take one of the enemies? _Yes._

And how? _"Would death by candlestick be too gruesome for wizards?"_ Grasping tightly onto the handle of said candlestick, Kakashi said simply, "I can try."

It seemed that was the minimal answer his wizard guide was looking for, judging by the way he steeled himself, stiff shoulders and wand wrist tense. "On my count then." Remus observed the three sets of booted feet moving closer to their location, each step solid on the Pathway of Desires.

"_Now!_"

Kakashi dove out of the desk, pitching an ink well at an enemy wand; as the stone object soared, it was brought down by a spell, shattering outwards like a shrapnel mine. Lupin waved his wand in a pointed movement and a shimmering shield slid smoothly around them, protecting them from the flying shards. In the next instant, his battle partner sent a wave of bluebell flames that appeared to have caught their enemies off-guard as they ducked away, darting away like startled fish.

Without prompting, he went after the lone enemy while Lupin dueled the pair. He took a running leap, slamming the candelabra in his right hand into the temple of his opponent.

_THWANG!_

Rolling into the fall and keeping low, he crouched over his opponent whilst striking a looming silhouette, assessing the situation. Spider line cracks flitted across the surface of the mask where his choice weapon landed but it was apparent his enemy was still lucid; if the shaking hands were anything to go by, he could tell that his opponent was only mildly stunned and not unconscious. Bringing the candelabra up in a pre-emptive striking motion, he paused, senses tingling in warning. There was something…At the periphery of his blind side…

"_PROTEGO_!"

The heat was _overwhelming_. Raising a hand up in reflex to shield his face, Kakashi faced the magical spell head-on, trusting that Remus' counter shield will protect him against _Confringo_; if it didn't, he was still reassured by his own ace in the hole, dominant hand poised in potential energy, livewire chakra held rigorously in check.

The orange flames greedily sucked in the oxygen that enveloped their safe haven before it just as quickly evaporated, leaving a telltale aftermath of black scorch marks and cinders. In the next heartbeat, dark dust and heavy smoke clearing laminar, Kakashi spied another enemy slipping past Remus and flying towards him, wand arm making aggressive slashing movements.

A torrent of needles, thin and composed of what appeared to be a metal compound, sliced through air. Quick calculation confirmed what he suspected; they were aimed for his head and heart.

Avoiding the attack with finesse, he ducked around the corner of another bureau, leaving his first, dazed enemy on the ground as the second stalked towards him, purposeful. It was clear that he was the target – the fact that the spells used against him meant to viciously maim definitely clued him in. While they merely incapacitated the office workers with stunners, they seemed ready to _de_capitate him.

So much for diplomatic immunity.

The wooden desk that shielded him took the brunt of the next spell, splinters chipping off near his left ear. Gripping the silver candlestick, he listened for the footfalls, measuring the distance from his position…

_"No jutsu. Too many witnesses. Maybe. But." _Fingers flickered. _"Yes. That might work."_

Decision made, he channeled an aura of lightning chakra into the metal of the candelabra, a feeling of _resistance_ and _flow_ tugging at his pathways, before he darted into the open and quickly aimed his weapon, letting it soar towards the wizard. Spotting the immediate flinch in body language, Kakashi played in concert with the distraction, moving in _fast_ to pin him down.

A vice grip around the wrists limited the enemy's movement as they struggled and using his bony knees, he jabbed sensitive pressure points on straining legs. His opponent snarled, feral, cloak pooling around shoulders, fabric tangled in tense arms. Smashing the hands in his grip none too gently, he forced the wizard to release their deadly mahogany magic wand, sensing it roll away-

-_Ugh_.

-air was forced out his lungs, diaphragm _aching_ against the attack. Involuntarily gasping, the strong silent knockback jinx flung him off and away from his opponent, much like what a Hyuuga gentle fist was capable of doing if one had the chance of acquainting it to his chest. Honed reflexes took over, a muscle memory from a different life, when he caught himself in midair, managing to land with a flip and hop.

The mask shielding the enemy's face was haunting in the cold sterile light; the wraith shifted onto their knees, crouching, body language speaking of wariness and discomfort.

Rubbing his chest whilst resting on his haunches, he considered the assailant, gauging the possibilities. The wand had rolled off to the side during their scuffle, nestled close to the skirt of a desk, meaning that the wraith was temporarily disarmed; however, simultaneously, he was divested of office supplies and there was no possible way he could get away with using _kunai_ without facing questions. In terms of hand-to-hand, he was confident that he had an advantage over the wizards but his highest priority was to not (so blatantly) reveal himself as a shinobi and like kunai, displaying peak physicality would lead to _questions_…So. An impasse.

_"What to do…" _

He leaned forward, resting his weight onto his left hand as his feet shifted from heel to toes. The wizard growled, inching their way to the wand, movements minute and careful. That was when the cloak shifted and revealed a hidden…

_"Is that a…?"_

Right eye zoning in onto the glint of metal at the waist of his enemy, a sword hilt was visible behind the concealing material of the cloak-

"_IMPEDIMENTA_!"

The sudden starburst of jade light exploded across his field of vision and the enemy stumbled, knocked back down onto his knees painfully. Tracing the spell to its origins, he saw Davy with his quaking wand pointed at the enemy wizard.

Perhaps the Quidditch commentator wasn't as consumed with fear as he initially thought.

Using the distraction to his advantage, he leapt towards his enemy, a chakra-laced fist drawn back (_oh the tricks he picked up from Gai_). The enemy saw his forward propulsion, staggered onto his feet, and reached out for the wand in concentration, arms straining out for moments before the wand jilted and jumped into their hand by wordless compulsion. A garbled echo of rage formed on their lips, mirrored by the equally quick violent wand movement, as magic was fired in his direction. The aim was true and the needle spell pierced air faster than he could move.

Or so the enemy assumed.

If he was an ordinary opponent, the enemy would have won, his lungs stabbed through like a pincushion, but because he was as _unordinary_ as one could be in wizard terms, he turned the tables with a swift calculated incline of a foot. The enemy was predictable even without the Sharingan and he was able to avoid the spell, using, unfortunately, _Shinobi_-level velocity.

Swinging to his enemy's left, he dove sideways into their defense and grabbed at the wraith's belt where the weapon hung tantalizingly. The smooth cold curve of the sword nestled in his right palm was a welcomed familiarity as he drew the weapon and swept his opponent off their feet in one fell swoop. He followed through using the metal flat of the sword, clocking his opponent on the head.

"Hey, watch out-!"

A spell whizzed by his ear as Davy sent a stunner at his first wizard opponent, the one he used the candelabra against. The wizard, still bearing the cracked mask but revived and on his feet, shielded himself in a flick of a wand and rebounded with a hex that careened towards him. Davy's _Protego_ shimmered briefly like mist but ultimately failed as the deadly spell approached.

But it didn't matter. Reflexively, he used the sword to catch the hex, causing the weapon to burn a dull violet as heat waves rose from the off-grey metal. The skin of his fingers blistered and seared at the hilt through conduction, the skyrocketing temperature felt through the battle-hardened calluses and scars; still, he raised the magic-imbued sword in mock salute, resting his left hand on his canted hip.

There was only one word left for their opponent as Kakashi stood his ground. "Surrender."

It was one against three. The wizard that was dueling Remus was down for the count with Remus' wand pointed dangerously at their throat. Similarly incapacitated, the enemy by Kakashi's feet was sprawled boneless, unconscious when their head met the blunt side of their own stolen sword.

By his count though, he knew there were still three other enemy wizards that were roaming the hallways but judging by the lack of terrified sounds of fighting, it seemed like the office wizards finally got their acts together. Or – here, he did a visual sweep, confirming his theory – the enemies were in favour of _not_ intervening and instead, collectively decided to watch the exchange.

Odd. For certain, if this group were to juggle their chances right now, it would likely still be in their favour yet…they stayed their hands. Granted, the others were at a distance away but that should not greatly impede their magic.

Reading the partially shielded body language, he gauged the stance of the wizard in front of him, cracked mask and all. No, there was more to this; this person was likely their leader.

And it was this leader that spoke first with an unidentifiable accent. "Surrender? Unlikely."

"You're outnumbered," said Remus in an equally calm but chilly tone.

"My allies are not far."

Davy, confidence returned, grumbled, "They won't reach you, not with the speed of his draw." Here, he nodded at him and Kakashi, despite the severity of the situation, was conflicted between misplaced ego and tired exasperation.

(He settled with exasperation, ruminating and bemoaning the need to concoct another excuse soon to explain away his 'dueling' experience.)

"True." The word was spoken lightly but he could easily detect the undercurrent of dread. "He is rather good, isn't he? Too good. Don't you think?"

Kakashi ignored the shade of suspicion cast on his person even though he could feel Remus' inquisitive gaze – or, that could just be his spiking paranoia. Regardless, he spoke candidly, "No, I don't think so. I'm just lucky."

"Luck can only get you so far." The assailant tightened the grip on their wand. "But let's see if your luck will hold."

Remus, in a whiplash of movement, aimed his wand at the intruder and threatened softly, "One move."

"Or what?" In a show, the enemy took a bold step forward. "Will you rip out my throat, _werewolf_?"

_"_Lupine_, huh?…Well, that certainly explained some things." _Kakashi witnessed Remus' unaffected mien and surveyed him, curiosity renewed.

In contrast, Davy, shrinking against the desk at the revelation, uttered, horrified, "Werewolf?"

Mockery. "He didn't tell you? My mistake, sir, but I thought this was common knowledge."

Kakashi could tell that Remus was ready to pounce – his intentions easily read from the angling of his feet – but the standstill was suddenly interrupted by several popping noises. The anti-apparating-disapparating wards must have been lifted.

In a fit of dust that shrouded the premises, the jounin could hear the distinctive sound caused by the teleportation spell and in seconds, more wizards joined the fray, each brandishing their wand at both friend and foe.

A moustached man spoke first while directing a wand at Remus, commanding, "Halt! This is the British Ministry! All parties drop your wands _now_."

"What?" Davy clamped his mouth shut immediately when one of their 'rescuers' frowned at him.

"And you there-"

Here, the jounin rose an eyebrow, challenging the ministry worker that had his wand daringly up his face.

"-Uh, drop that sword!"

Kakashi would have sharply reprimanded the British man but refrained with a half-hearted dig instead, "Competent…I think the person you want is over there." He pointed at the masked wizard currently surrounded by two other British aurors.

"No." Head tilted, the mask was blank against the glare of light. Kakashi could hear the taunting laughter. "Not anymore."

In rapid movement, the enemy dropped down, avoiding the line of fire from the ministry wands, and from the crouched angle, released a torrent of medieval arrows in his direction. The aurors that were planted between them stopped the spell with _Finite Incantatem_ but he knew it was a mere distraction. Evading the ally wizards, he saw their adversary holding out a quill in their left hand, a visible aura of magic surrounding the object.

He had a bad feeling about this.

Quickly taking aim, he threw the sword like a javelin at the enemy, easily shredding tendons and sinew as it rested through their shoulder, but it was not enough to stop them.

The quill vanished as did all of their enemies, including the ones that were incapacitated. What remained was a bloodstain on the ground.

And the aurors, they turned as one and aimed their wands at him.

Trouble.

* * *

The two wands amongst them confiscated, Remus, Davy and Kakashi were shoved into a corner of an overturned cubicle. In a too noticeable move – the sportscaster was _twitching_ every time Remus so much as _breathed_, after all – Kakashi found himself sandwiched between them.

"This is embarrassing. I work here you know!" puffed up Davy as the one guarding them shrugged uncaringly. "Ask the other employees man!"

Crossing his arms casually, Kakashi sighed, talking over Davy's tirade, "That was exciting."

"…You should just say it," said Remus tiredly, surprising since the jounin thought he wouldn't break the anxious silence that seemed to shroud him like miasma. His next words were not bitter either, just impatient. "You know what I am."

It was like a switch. Davy, hushing, shifted his weight from foot to foot uneasy and seemed to inch into a nook.

But prejudice never really worked for him. Waving the olive stick, the ninja said simply, "There's nothing to say."

(Though, Headmaster Dumbledore certainly had a lot to answer for. A little warning went a _long_ way.)

Deflating, the weary man (wolf) seemed to disregard his dismissal. "I will bring you back to Hogwarts once this settles."

"Hm." It was neither an agreement nor disagreement.

They fell into another perturbed quiet.

"We-ell." Davy forced cheer into his stuttered words again. "Nifty fighting, Mr. Hatake. I could almost give a play-by-play!"

"Ah – thanks."

"And man, when you made that suicidal grab for the guy's sword, I thought you were a goner!"

Another noncommittal grunt. "It wasn't suicidal."

"Plus that javelin throw at the end! You have an _arm_, sir. Ever thought of Quidditch? You'd probably be as good as a chaser."

"No thanks." Kakashi shook his head. "I'm not interested."

"Wasted talent man." Davy looked appalled. "Wasted."

"…You surprised me, Mr. Hatake," added Remus softly. "It's too bad I didn't get to watch your duel."

Davy twitched, jumping an inch off the ground this time.

Ignoring the nervous wizard beside him when their werewolf spoke up, the shinobi returned blithely, "Being the only squib in an office full of wizards back home, you're bound to pick up a few defensive moves. They bet, sometimes."

(Tsunade probably wouldn't appreciate having her violent tendencies compared to, what she would deem, weaklings and the ANBU betting pool? It may or may not have existed at one point.

Unspoken rules and all.)

"Oh…" Lupin regarded the ninja mildly, unsure of how to respond to the insinuation that Kakashi's colleagues were capable of bodily harming each other for sport. He opted for the diplomatic route. "Office policy allows this?"

"The pranking? Not sure actually." Kakashi made a 'thinking' pose. "As long as it's harmless, I think. I will check the employee manual when I get home."

(Though he was quite sure, having memorized it after all, that rule number one stated something along the lines of 'the Kage's word is law'…and since it was the Kage doling out the – ah – 'punishments'…)

Lupin, deep bone exhaustion receding, remarked, "The Headmaster did say you were unpredictable but I didn't realize that also extended to self-defense."

A sudden flash from behind Davy momentarily blinded Kakashi and Remus and a sharp voice cheered gleefully, "Excellent picture. I smell a possible front page!"

Remus took a step back when an emerald robe-garbed woman unexpectedly popped up in front of them. She was eager, clutching a crocodile handbag and acid green quill, notebook hovering by talon-like hands. Immaculate blonde curls did not soften her shark grin and her startling appearance seemed amplified by the glittering bejeweled glasses that resembled multiple iridescent insect eyes.

"Ma'am, you can't-"

Figure belying strength, the woman pushed the ministry worker blocking her way and cooed, "I'm Rita Skeeter, writer for the _Daily Prophet_. Care to tell the juicy details of the heroic escapades that occurred in this glorious battle? Was this an uprising over pesky Goblin rights? Or perhaps, this was a machination of unhappy employees. Tell me your thoughts and feelings during the fight. Was there a moment when courage failed you?"

"Um."

The photographer behind her took another picture, catching all three of them in an unflattering light.

"Mr. Hatake, was it?" She paused long enough to turn the page of her parchment notebook to a blank page, allowing the magical quill to pose ready on the sheaf of parchment. "Describe to the readers the methods of your self-defence."

"I-" He would have buried his face into his hands if it was dignified. _"Not another one."_

Rita egged on, "It must be fancy wand work, am I right? Bad odds. Twenty against one?"

Pocketing his hands, Kakashi, falsely demure, said, "No and I wasn't alone."

"Oh. No you certainly weren't." Skeeter winked evocatively, gold teeth revealed in her smile. He could feel Remus' tightly controlled shudder. "Rescue work can be quite a hassle when the wizards you are saving aren't capable of the basic A-B-Cs of wand work."

"Now just a moment Ms. Skeeter," started Davy.

"Hush Mr. Cooper. Wasn't it your words that detailed how excellently Mr. Hatake defended the radio tower?" The Quidditch sports personality, knowing full well who exactly they were dealing with, shrugged weakly, not willing to push the subject when he knew he was not going to win. Skeeter waved a hand with a flourish and the notebook turned to a new page. "The other eyewitnesses in particular were very forthcoming of your participation." The _Daily Prophet_ writer seemed to ignore Remus for the most part, which was fine by him.

Kakashi pointlessly corrected her again, "I had help."

"A modest answer. Very suitable for your image." The shinobi could see the quill taking quick notes on his attire, underlining '-face was concealed by a morose grey scarf, casting upon his person a mysterious air'. "You must have been brilliant! Now, Mr. Hatake, local hero-"

"-This is blown out of proportion-"

"-What do you do for a living?"

The shinobi refused to answer, merely smiled, aggravated, and allowed the silence to drag on.

Skeeter, however, was undeterred and continued yammering, "You must be a reclusive shop owner in London, selling antiques-"

The Quidditch commentator supplied, "-He's actually hired at Hogwarts." Swinging his gaze, Davy shrunk back against Kakashi's disapproval before whispering desperately, "It'll only get worse, trust me."

And it did get worse.

"Hogwarts! Mr. Hatake- ah!" Rita lit up like a fierce fiery _firework_. "So you _must_ be that rumored Asian diplomat at Hogwarts. I thought so! I have been vying for an interview ever since there was word about your arrival – Imagine, an elusive Asian diplomat on British soils! – but your Headmaster, bless his soul, was adamant that you liked privacy and solitude. What an old-fashioned personality." She paused, quill quivering, "So, my vivacious readers are salivating – what does the Asian Ministry think of the British Ministry?"

"No comment." Literally.

Yet she managed to save his sound bite.

"-Because there is _too much_ to say about the British Ministry in one sitting? I will be sure to include several glowing comments on how well the relationship between the Asian Ministry and British Ministry is thawing after such a drawn, iced out communications situation," beamed Skeeter as she manipulated her words to win herself brownie points.

"And what of Hogwarts? Describe your position there."

"No, I don't-"

Yet again, she twisted his answer to her means, all smiles. "Don't be silly – I'm sure you know exactly what you are doing at Hogwarts. I hear you're an exemplary intermediary. The students fawn over your every step and they are learning in leaps and bounds-"

This time, he interrupted her bluntly, "I wouldn't say that."

Skeeter, if she had fangs, would have been poised to bite him. "Evidence says otherwise, Mr. Hatake…But I must say, when we received a notice of your arrival, we were astonished. Please don't be offended by what I want to say, but don't you feel that with your title and capabilities, you're just being asked to be, dare I say, a glorified babysitter?"

_"Evidence? Babysitter?"_ Visible eye curving, he tried to defuse the situation. "I wouldn't say that."

"No? Then, do you _feel_ like a babysitter-?"

"Hem hem. Of course not. He adds tremendous value to Hogwarts and I want to thank the Asian Ministry for sending such an apt diplomat," simpered a voice that was slowly ingraining itself into his vanilla nightmares.

It was Delores Umbridge. From behind her, the shinobi could spot Aurors MacKey and Hartley looking their way. He mused, resigned, _"_Of course_ the British counterattack would include them and _they_ must have alerted Umbridge..."_

The forgotten ministry worker who was supposed to be guarding the 'suspects' scrambled, "S-S-Sorry Madam Umbridge but Miss Skeeter-"

"That's enough." Umbridge, in all her pink glory, elbowed her way next to Skeeter and sneered at her, "You are in my way, _dear_."

Skeeter was bristling; her smile strained, she nodded reluctantly at Umbridge. "Of course Madam." She forced her way between Remus and Kakashi as Umbridge stepped into her spot.

"No need to worry. I have already cleared your name, Mr. Hatake. You're very welcome." Umbridge grinned sickly sweet at Kakashi. "But what an unfortunate breach of security when you so happened to be here too." Fluttering eyelashes did not hide the calculating sneer. "And I hope your throat condition healed well."

With as much pomp he could muster, Kakashi replied cordially, "Yes, thank you for asking. Frogs. Pesky creatures." Polite to a line, he said curtly, "If you'll excuse-"

"Not even a conversation?" A girly laugh later, Umbridge blocked their only exit and interrogated, "What _are_ you doing in our Radio Tower?"

Skeeter's quill kept writing. The photographer snapped another intrusive picture.

"Seeing the sights. Mr. Lupin was kind enough to show me around." Kakashi intoned. "It would be a shame not to have stories to share with my colleagues back home."

"Hem hem." Shooting a dismissive look at Remus, regarding him like a bug stuck under her shoe, the Senior Under-Secretary chided, "You should have mentioned your desire to sightsee. The Ministry is committed in keeping you safe and happy, away from less…" Her voice oozed with fearful disdain again as she pointedly glared at Remus. "…disreputable drifters."

Kakashi cleared his throat pointedly, "I am fine with my current arrangement-"

"I do insist the next time you wish to explore – make a social call to the Ministry." Umbridge, saccharine sharpness, elaborated, "We can provide you with an adequate protection detail so that you won't have to face a horrid scene like today with such insufficient defense. It _is_ what proper protocol dictates to be done for a representative of the Asian Ministry."

_"Fine. Political games, hm?"_ The 'squib' sighed, put-upon, "If you must insist then I would request for – what was his name-" He paused, catching Lupin's bemused but resigned look. "-Mr. Shacklebolt."

Umbridge looked two steps away from euphoric joy before deflating. "Are you sure of Mr. Shacklebolt?"

"Yes." The shinobi laid out his observations, keenly aware of Umbridge's conflict. Perhaps the woman didn't get along well with Shacklebolt? "I hear he's quite high up in your Auror department. It would be prudent to select the best."

She nearly scowled before recovering with an overly sugary beam. He could almost see the clogs clicking in her brain when she agreed haughtily, "Consider it done." Umbridge, looking triumphant now, crowed, "Let's take a picture for the _Daily Prophet_. That _is_ what Miss Reporter is here for." She flashed a superior smirk at Skeeter who was left fuming as until that moment, she was completely forgotten.

Making a hooking motion at the photographer with a thick finger adorned with an ugly purple ring, Umbridge demanded in a high, girly voice, "You there – take our picture!"

* * *

"Harry, take a look at this."

Spoon suspended, porridge forgotten, the _Daily Prophet_ was unfurled and placed over his food by his eager bookish friend. He blinked at the picture.

Ron craned his head to take a gander and sputtered, "Blimey! Isn't that Professor Lupin?"

"What is he doing with Mr. Hatake?" started Harry.

The picture in question was located on the third page of the '_Prophet_. Their Asian Diplomat was facing the camera with his patented eye-smile but closer inspection showed his image slowly inching backwards out of the picture. It was understandable, mused Harry, as the Mediator was uncomfortably bookended by a woman overdressed in pink with a horridly teeth-filled smile and another whose statement of green could give people celebrating St. Patrick's Day a run for their money. From time to time, her eyes would dart from Hatake to the other woman in the picture, scowling.

To the right of the lady in green was Remus Lupin, awkwardly staring straight-faced at the photographer. On the other side of the group was an unidentified man with massive dreadlocks; he barely made it into the picture with the way the lady in pink seemed to elbow him out of the frame.

Hermione pointed at the passage in the newspaper, reiterating with a sarcastic bite, "There was an attack at the British Radio Tower. They're calling it a 'security breach'."

Pushing away the rest of his breakfast, Harry took in the spread out newspaper and read aloud, "…_From the frightful scene of malicious intent, this reporter was able to meet the fabled Asian Diplomat who hails from-_"Here the writing was completely blurred out as if intentional. "_Currently residing at Hogwarts as an effective intermediary of the children of tomorrow, he single-handedly save the Radio Tower employees from harm. From the golden mouth of the host of '_Coping the Game'_ himself, Davy Copper gushed a play-by-play of his victory. "He stopped him with a _paperweight_!"_…" Harry paused, bemused, "It goes on and on about Hatake's accomplishments."

Ron grimaced, "Everyone knows Skeeter's a liar and that she exaggerates the story anyway."

"Who's Skeeter?" asked Harry curiously.

"The 'writer' of the article. Mum calls her the most ridiculous slanderer at the _Daily Prophet_," interrupted Ginny.

He shrugged, "Well, she didn't even mention Remus even though he's in the picture." Muttering under his breath grimly, Harry said, "I wonder if this has any relation to the Quidditch World Cup incident."

_Death Eaters._

Hermione replied briskly, "It's hard to say, Harry. But by the descriptions…I'm surprised the _'Prophet_ didn't blow this up to front page news. Instead, this article focuses on uselessly talking about Mr. Hatake's exploits like some _fan_."

Ron nearly ribbed her about one notorious _Professor Lockhart_ during their Second Year but wisely kept his mouth shut when both Ginny and Hermione glared at him, easily reading his intentions.

Skimming the rest of the article, Harry read another passage that sparked his interest, "…_After the debacle with the British Ministry embarrassingly mistaking Mr. Hatake as a terrorist abetting in crime, Madam Umbridge apologized _inadequately_ on behalf of the British Ministry's blunder. As the public has the right to know such truths, this incompetence should be reflected upon during the next election for Minister of Magic_…"

"She's surprisingly anti-British Ministry," commented Ginny, sipping at her pumpkin juice.

Spotting Harry's confused expression, Hermione explained, "There's been a lot of bad blood between the Asian-British Ministries for the past few centuries due to a decade long war. War for the sake of war. And to make matters worse, there hasn't been much communication between the factions until now with Mr. Hatake's arrival. There's a lot of prejudice against Asian wizards that he has to overcome."

"How do you even know this?" asked Ron rhetorically.

The brunette was about to snap back with a 'because I _read_' but her attention was diverted.

"So you're saying that him being here is kind of a big deal," repeated Harry.

Hermione nodded, "That's right."

"Then maybe the attack was led by anti-Asian Ministry sympathizers…"

* * *

Ink brush in one hand, he drew two parallel lines, steady and straight. He then carefully blotted in the details – a twenty degree curve at the blade business end, the thin leather suede of the hilt, and the strange runes on one side of the blade flat. In the legend, the approximate weight was recorded but he also wrote down a note that there didn't seem to be a known comparable metal ore that had this weight and durability in Fire Country.

It was a diagram of the mysterious sword he used during the short-lived Radio Tower fight eight hours ago. He still didn't know who was responsible for the attempt on his life but he was determined to find out. After writing his report, he had a meeting with the Headmaster.

Placing the brush down, he smoothed out the parchment, setting it out to dry by the Hogwarts Library candlelight. Kakashi leaned back in his chair, trying to relieve the sudden uncomfortable prickling sensation at his neck. Rolling his shoulders next, he sighed, "Come out. It's rude to read over someone's shoulder."

A wispy voice breezed behind him. "I was thinking you would never invite me."

"You've been following me for the past month." Kakashi didn't move from his seat and continued to speak to 'empty air', "For a ghost, I thought you would lose interest and leave me be. Your friends certainly did."

There was a faint discord as energy tensed. "Why would I do that when are you proving to be a puzzle, _ninja_?"

With the word 'ninja' spoken in his native tongue, Kakashi had to school his expression to indifference. "Mimicking the words you hear between my talking dogs now?" He released a bit of controlled chakra, knowing that the energy made ghosts feel uncomfortable, just like how the afterlife drifting in this castle prickled along his senses in an irritatingly distracting way.

The ghost seemed to ignore his poke as he replied, "You are rather far away from home." The voice, clearer now, was male and accented with an inflection he couldn't place. In an instant, the ghost materialized in front of him, features stern as he stared down, arms crossed. "Put your weapon away, little descendent. Stop waving that _chakra_ around."

If Kakashi was shocked by the sudden appearance of the pearly ghost hovering across him, it didn't show. Instead, he raised an eyebrow at the garments donned by the ghost, the rough features of the face, the markings of _ronin_, and he grunted with mild reproach, "Far from home? So says the _samurai_…A dead _samurai_ in a wizard's castle."

"Very uncouth, Hatake descendent. You should respect your elders." With candor, the samurai said, "I befriended a family of Hatake once. Bundled me up and sent me to bed, they did."

The ghost looped around him once, repeating, "You are very far away from home, Hatake descendent, but there is no mistake. The skin that burned easily in the sun and the thin, anaemic, underfed figure. Your descendent had a crop of grey hair and a remarkable green thumb but was unusually short. A small wraith of the fields, they were called." He paused, "Though, your hair is black and you're too tall and muscular to be pureblooded."

"It was said that if the Daimyou were descendents of the Heavenly Celestial beings then the Hatake were Children of the Earth-"

"-Stop buttering me up by flattering my dead forefathers. It's not going to work," said Kakashi, deadpanned. "Why are you following me?"

"_Ninja_ paranoia. Fitting." The samurai had an unnervingly anxious expression. "Young descendent, I am curious. I am like you…but I have been away from home for a very long time…"

Kakashi tilted his head. "How did you get to Scotland? Assuming you died here..."

"I walked between nations." Obliging, the ghost mourned, "There were no _barriers_. It was simpler times with simpler people. Make no mistake, there was still greed…and they still wanted the same thing – power. I had skills to give to help the strong and in return, I earned food and song and sleep."

"So, not a _samurai_…You were a mercenary fighter," said the jounin. "How did you die?"

"I was alive and then I died." Tension spiking, the answer was curt and meaningless, hinted with loathing, as the ghost was noticeably sensitive about his death. Abruptly changing subjects, he traced the diagram of the sword, transparent finger roving over the strange runes. "Protection symbols. The name of the maker."

Kakashi eyed the pile of open books describing different European swords – descriptions that didn't fit the one he had acquired briefly from his enemy – and asked the spectre, "You know the origins of this sword I drew?"

"The shape and length...It is altered with time but still similar and the runes mark it for what it is." The mercenary frowned, "Do not doubt my skill. I will tell you the origin of the sword if you tell me about the Land of Iron."

With a neutral expression, he said, "The age of the _ninja_ has mostly eclipsed the age of the _samurai_; only the Land of Iron remain true to the ways you would be familiar with but they shun outsiders and generally keep themselves away from the _ninja_ political landscape."

"Shame. What a shame." The mercenary drifted. "Home has changed while I have been away…"

Kakashi interrupted the melancholy ghost, "And the sword?"

The spectre answered easily, "It is from South Asia…India would be the name of the modern country."

"South Asia…" Eyebrows furrowing, Kakashi murmured, troubled, "But that could mean…"

* * *

Her face, wreathed in green fire, creased, frown severe. "The Imposter escaped with his life."

"He is lucky and…dangerous." The responding voice was thin and airy, laced with trepidation. "Apologies Madam. It will not happen again."

Popping and crackling from the fireplace interrupted what could have been a dauntingly long pause.

"Lucky, hmm?"

"…Yes ma'am."

"Your excuses amuse me." The woman laughed throatily. "Abort the Assassination call. Instead, see to it that this 'Kakashi Hatake' is captured and detained. Do not play until we have him." The head in the fire bobbled before disappearing in a flash of magic.

Alone in the office, the Asian Minister of Defense bowed stiffly in deference at the fireplace even without an audience, one hand clenched tightly around the shoulder wound.

"Certainly."

* * *

Moody slapped a teacher's notice on his empty plate. Putting down his book, _'The Oriental Affair'_ (He replaced _'Werewolves and Animagi: Common Ancestors?'_ when he bumped into Harry Potter and watched his face drain into a fascinating pasty white.),Kakashi raised an eyebrow at the ex-Auror in question.

Taking his designated seat, Moody growled above his magically appearing food, "Mark your calendar. On October Thirtieth, the Beauxbaton and Durmstrang delegations are arriving."

"Three weeks away? I appreciate the advanced notice." Knowing that the knowledge didn't come for free when it originated from Moody, he asked, offhand, "Constant vigilance?"

There was a pause as the wizard settled in his high back seat before he started conversationally, "Durmstrang…I arrested their Headmaster once upon a time. He was a Death Eater who betrayed You-Know-Who and his followers, giving up information to the British Ministry for a lenient sentence. Though…Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater – wouldn't you agree, Snape?"

Kakashi tilted his head back to witness Snape's darkening visage, lips turning downwards into a sneer. The Potion's Master, who had the unfortunate timing of stalking past them during Moody's spiel, asked silkily, "Polluting the mind of Hogwarts' impressionable Mediator, Professor Moody?"

"Hardly." The man snorted rudely as Snape continued to sweep his way to his seat at the Great Hall, glaring daggers at them both.

The shinobi, placing his reading material down and bookmarking the page, stated dryly, "I don't care much about Durmstrang or Beauxbaton."

"But you are participating in the Triwizard Tournament in some form, aren't you?" asked Moody casually, clearly fishing for information. "The others here might be _airy-fairy_ enough to believe that you're here to only 'spark school spirit' but you don't make the fit, _sugarplum_."

He was starting to really dislike Moody's perceptiveness. Twisting his words, he answered honestly, "I have no part in what the schools are planning for this event."

A shark grin appeared. "Hm. Well then. I think I should share something with you." Moody twirled a familiar Silver Sickle on his fingertips before pocketing it in his cloak. "I hear there is smoke in the dens."

_"A riddle." _Kakashi drawled, deadpanned, unwilling to take the bait, "Where there's smoke, there's fire. I would imagine a wizard of your skill would know how to use an extinguishing spell."

"What of a smoke that can't be extinguished?" Moody knew he piqued his attention now when he continued with a derisive grunt, "Just hearsay that the smoke can be seen in the Forbidden Forest. I thought you might be…_interested_."

Needless to say, his good old shinobi intuition was screaming 'I have a bad feeling about this'.

* * *

**TBC**

A/N: I always thought it was a shame Skeeter and Umbridge never met in the books. _Explosive_. **Boom.**

More to come about the Asian Ministry…Heh. The subplot will involve them too. Oh Kakashi, you can't just parade around using their name without repercussions!

Anyway, next chapter we'll be meeting the Bulgarians and French. Can we all just say a big 'finally'? I want to make a claim as longest time taken to reach the beginning of the Triwizard Tournament - fours years, lol!

~Phoenyxx


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